The Trojan War
by Tsubaki-Eleven
Summary: The strongest hero of them all and his beloved companion, a banished prince and his brain-washed bride, and a doomed mortal and the god who loved him. Worlds collide with an apple and a war, and happy endings are hard to find. USCan and GerIta
1. The Judgment of Paris

Summary: A retelling of the Trojan War with a focus on Achilles, Patroclus, Hector, Apollo, Menelaus, and Paris. I drew a lot of inspiration from _The Song of Achilles_ by Madeline Miller. If you get the chance, read that book. It's informative and heartfelt, and you will cry.

Pairings: Mainly USCan and GerIta. Brief mentions of SuFin. The rest is kinda ambiguous, but there's some France/Joan of Arc, FrSey, UKSey, maybe even FrUK if you choose to see it that way.

Warnings: Some language, mentions of sex, rape, and violence. Nothing too bad. You might be confused if you're not familiar with Greek mythology and the Trojan War, but I tried my best to make it clear. Oh, and I made them speak bits of their respective languages from the anime. It makes no sense, but it's harder to identify the characters without it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, and I obviously don't own the story of the Trojan War either. Also, I don't claim that all the facts given in this story are accurate. I'll try to elaborate and give my sources at the end of each chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 1: The Judgment of Paris**

Here's a character guide for this chapter just in case you can't tell who someone is or aren't familiar with Greek mythology.

Zeus/Russia: king of the gods, ruler of the sky and lightning

Hera/Belarus: Zeus's sister and wife, goddess of marriage and childbirth

Demeter/Ukraine: Zeus's sister, goddess of the harvest

Athena/Hungary: daughter of Zeus, goddess of wisdom and war strategy

Aphrodite/Belgium: goddess of love and beauty

Ares/Prussia: son of Zeus and Hera, god of war

Apollo/North Italy: son of Zeus and Leto, god of light, music, poetry, prophecy, truth, and healing

Artemis/South Italy: Apollo's twin, goddess (and in this story, god) of hunting, chastity, and the moon

Paris/France: prince of Troy, most beautiful man on Earth

Helen/Seychelles: queen of Sparta, most beautiful woman on Earth

Oenone/Joan of Arc: a lovely nymph, Paris's lover

Peleus/Sweden: king of the Myrmidons, husband of Thetis

Thetis/Finland: a shape-shifting sea nymph, wife of Peleus

Hermes: messenger god, also the god of thieves

Eris: goddess of discord

* * *

**Mount Olympus, home of the gods**

When one lives forever, it becomes understandably necessary to celebrate something once in a while, just to break up the monotony. So the marriage of the mortal king Peleus to his lovely bride Thetis, a sea nymph, seemed good enough a reason for all the gods on Olympus to take a break from the drudgery and throw a party. Wine flowed from Dionysus's cup, the Graces enchanted everyone with their dancing, and Apollo's lyre and sweet singing filled the room.

"The world is made of precious flour and water! When I look up to the empty sky, I see lightly floating macaroni—"

"What the hell are you singing about now?"

"Oh, fratello!" The god of music paused in his song and beamed at his twin, Artemis. "It's a new song about this food I just invented! I call it pasta!"

Artemis, the eternal virgin, was hardly ever in a good mood at a wedding. And he always made sure that everyone knew it. "You can't even eat mortal food, you moron."

"I know, but I think it could be really good! Maybe I'll introduce it to the humans in a few hundred years~"

"Great. Well in the meantime, why don't you sing something more fitting for the occasion? Like a funeral dirge."

"Ve, that's not very nice, fratello. Look how happy the couple is!"

The twins looked over to Peleus and Thetis, and even Apollo had to admit that they clearly weren't happy. For his part, the mortal king was obviously crazy about his new bride, but his intimidating face and great stature made her shrink away from him. Or rather, it made _him_ shrink away from him.

"Thetis has shape shifted into a man."

"Ve..."

Artemis shook his head. "See? This is what sex does to people. She turned into all kinds of things to try and get away from him when he raped her, you know."

Apollo pouted. "It wasn't his fault. Zeus practically _made_ him rape her because of that prophecy."

"All the same. Now she's a guy." Artemis smiled with approval. "She'll have to change back when she gives birth, of course, but it's much easier to avoid rape when you're a man like the god of chastity."

"But fratello, don't all the mortals think you're a woman?"

"Shut up!"

Across the room, the king of gods Zeus looked out at the festivities with pleasure. His sister Demeter fidgeted at his side.

"Brother, you did make sure to invite everyone, right?"

"Da, I did."

"Oh, okay." She fidgeted some more. "It's just that—"

"What?"

"Um..." The goddess of the harvest felt herself tearing up a little. "It's just that everything feels almost _too _pleasant, and I was just wondering if someone isn't here."

Zeus's childish face scrunched up in concentration. "Oh, right. I didn't invite Eris."

"The goddess of discord?"

"Da."

"But won't she get angry? What if she—"

"No worries, sister. She is not here. What can she possibly do?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, there was a crash and a scream. All the immortals (and Peleus) suddenly paused and turned towards the noise, where Zeus's wife Hera, his daughter Athena, and the goddess Aphrodite were struggling over a golden sphere.

"It says 'for the fairest,' so of course it should go to me. I'm the goddess of beauty!'

"Please, you're just vain. She practically threw it right at me; it should be mine!"

"Yeah, give it to the un-awesome, gender-confused bitch!"

"Shut up, Ares!"

"Silence! I am the queen of the gods, and this apple belongs to me. Doesn't it, brother dearest?"

Hera's steely eyes fixed on the hapless king of the gods. They were soon joined by the green gazes of the other two. Zeus's throat became dry.

"Uh...well I don't know if I can make a judgment like this. But don't worry!" He cringed as the three goddesses stepped toward him. "I know just the person who can decide it."

* * *

**Mount Ida near Troy**

Paris of Troy was a prince, though he didn't know it, and a beautiful one to boot. Given this, his whole life should've been smooth sailing, but instead he woke up each day on a dreary mountain with nothing but tedious work to do.

The young shepherd brushed his wavy blonde locks with his fingers and forced a smile at the beautiful nymph Oenone, the only bright spot in his life. "Good morning, love."

Oenone's pretty blue eyes opened, and she smiled as Paris carded his fingers through her short blonde hair. "Good morning. Are you going out now?"

"Of course. Those sheep aren't going to herd themselves." She laughed, but Paris found no humor in his situation. As he stepped out to do his droll job—again—he couldn't help but think, _'This isn't the life that I want.' _

"Heads up!"

Paris started and turned around to see a golden object hurtling towards him. He caught it reflexively and, upon closer inspection, discovered that it was a golden apple, marked 'For the Fairest.'

The prince looked up hesitantly. "Who said that? Who threw this?"

"That was just Hermes, dear. Don't worry about him; he was just delivering the apple."

Paris screamed and staggered back a few paces as three incredibly tall women materialized before him. One exuded power, another strength, and the last lust. After his initial shock subsided, Paris realized that they were the three most beautiful women he had ever seen. He quickly stood a little straighter and fixed his hair.

The most intimidating one, a blonde with steely blue eyes, spoke up. "Paris of Troy, son of Priam, you have been charged by the almighty king of gods, my husband Zeus, to award this apple to whichever one of us you think most deserves it. Choose wisely, for this is the most important duty you shall ever perform in your mortal life."

_'Son of Priam? The king Priam?' _Paris blinked a few times. "Uh. What?"

"Just give it to whoever's prettiest, okay?" The friendliest-looking beauty held out her hand expectantly. She had cat-like green eyes and short hair the color of gold. "Zeus picked you because you are the most beautiful man on Earth, Prince Paris. Surely you can recognize that I'm the fairest. I'm Aphrodite, of course, the goddess of love and beauty."

Goddess of beauty? Seeing a chance, Paris quickly put on a smile. "Well, perhaps I could make such a judgment if I could see a bit _more _of you."

Aphrodite got the hint and winked. "If you insist." She started slipping off her dress.

"Ugh, you're a pig." The last woman, a brunette in full armor, glared at the goddess of love to make her stop. "Okay, listen up. I am Athena, goddess of wisdom, and I can tell you that the _smart _choice is to pick me. I can make you a champion, pretty boy. If you give the apple to me, I promise that you will lead Troy to victory against the Greeks. You'll be a hero."

_'A hero?' _That sounded kind of nice. Paris tapped his chin thoughtfully.

"Ignore her. Hear me, son of Priam." The scary blonde's steely eyes fixed on Paris. "I am Hera, the queen of the gods. You never got the life that you deserve, the life of a prince. But I can change that. I can make you the lord of all of Europe and Asia."

Paris felt his heart skip a beat, but what Aphrodite said next erased all other thoughts from his mind.

"I'll give you the most beautiful woman on Earth. Helen of Sparta." Aphrodite held out her hands and a vision of a dark haired beauty with warm brown skin was projected into the air. "I'll make her love you."

She was gorgeous. He couldn't stop looking at her. Having been just a humble shepherd up until this point, Paris understandably couldn't really register what was going on anymore. He was a prince and officially the most beautiful man on Earth, that much he knew. And here were three lovely goddesses (one half naked) practically promising him the world. He'd be more excited if he weren't so scared.

"What do you want, Paris?"

"I want..."

"Glory."

"Power."

"Love."

"I want..." Paris stared at the image of Helen, smiling and laughing. He thought fleetingly of Oenone. "I want her."

He put the apple in Aphrodite's hands.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** And it begins. Honestly, I don't know how I found the motivation to actually write this, but I really fell in love with the idea. I hope it's not too confusing without the APH character names. It just sounded awkward with them. As per my disclaimer, here's some accuracy notes: Artemis is a girl. Yeah. But Italy and Romano were the best choice for Apollo and Artemis, so I just made her a guy in this story. Also, Thetis probably never shape-shifted into a man, but Finland was the best choice for this character and I'd rather genderbend Thetis than Finland (because it actually makes more sense). In the real story, all three godesses actually got naked for Paris, but I thought... yeah. No. Uh, the song Italy's singing in the beginning is the English translation of his character song "Let's Boil Hot Water." And I think that's it. If you have any questions or want to point anything out to me, please leave a review. This was a pretty short chapter, but I hope you'll stick around for the rest of the story.

Translations:

Fratello (Italian): Brother

Da (Russian): Yes


	2. The Abduction of Helen

**Chapter 2: The Abduction of Helen**

A few new characters. (These lists will get shorter and shorter as it goes.)

Achilles/USA: son of Thetis and Peleus, prince of Phthia, destined to be the greatest hero of all time

Patroclus/Canada: Achilles' best friend, the banished son of King Menoetius

Menelaus/UK: the king of Sparta, Helen's husband

Hector/Germany: prince of Troy, a virtuous hero and great fighter, a favorite of Apollo's

Chiron: an immortal centaur who trained Achilles and Patroclus in medicine and music

* * *

**King Peleus's palace in Thessaly, Greece**

"Achilles, why is your dad so sad all the time?"

"Hm?" The blonde boy looked up from his practice sword and scrutinized his new friend, Patroclus. "What do you mean?"

"I mean he...I don't know, he just always seems sad. I was just wondering." As always, Patroclus's voice was barely a whisper. But his violet eyes shone with curiosity.

The young hero-to-be laughed and turned back to his sword, which was almost as big as he was. "Well I think it's 'cause he misses my mom, Thetis. He's always like, 'I m'ss m'wife.' "

Patroclus tried hard not to laugh, but Achilles' imitation of his father really was hilarious. A few giggles escaped. "So...where is your mom? Why'd she leave?"

"Um..." Achilles practiced a few jabs with the blade. Had he actually been fighting someone, those jabs would have been fatal. "Well she didn't like my dad much. He raped her."

Patroclus gasped. "Your dad did? Peleus? But he's so nice!"

"Yeah, it wasn't really his fault though. Y'see, there was a prophecy that said my mom's son would be greater than his father. So Zeus made a mortal mate with her to prevent the kid from being too strong." Achilles swiped the blade with enough force to chop off a limb. It sliced harmlessly through thin air.

"Wow." Patroclus stared at his friend with newfound awe. "So you're destined to be really great."

"The greatest hero Greece has ever seen!" Achilles pointed to himself proudly. "I'm already half god, and my mom dipped me in the River Styx when I was born, so I'm invincible too. Someday everyone will know my name."

Patroclus bit his lip. "Doesn't that scare you, though? Heroes have to fight monsters and stuff. A lot of them die, and it's really sad."

"Not me! I'm the best! I'll have a happy ending, and you'll be right there with me, right?" Achilles smiled. "I'm going to train on Mount Pelion with that famous centaur Chiron someday. Come with me. Promise you'll stay with me."

Patroclus blushed and his eyes widened. "You want me to stay with you? Even knowing what I did back—"

"Don't even mention it. I know you're a good guy, Patroclus, and nothing will change my mind." Achilles put on his best serious face and nodded sternly. "Promise?"

Patroclus swallowed. "I promise."

* * *

**Mount Olympus, home of the gods**

When everything started going wrong, the god of war was ecstatic. His red eyes flashed with anticipation and his dark smile never left his face.

"Yo, Apollo, c'mere."

"Ve?" The god of light cringed and approached his half brother cautiously. "Yes?"

"You see the future, right? Tell me there's a war coming. I can feel it."

Apollo felt a wave of sadness overcome him. He looked down at Earth, where the prince Paris was traveling to meet the promised girl. In his mind's eye, the god of prophecy saw great ships sailing on the waves, bodies falling, women and children screaming. But none of the faces were clear, and that bothered him most of all. "Yes, there'll be a war. But I don't know who's going to win."

"Awesome. Kesesese..."

Apollo left Ares feeling sick. Needing security, he went to Earth to visit a mortal, his favorite of them all. The young prince was just pushing his blonde hair back with some oils like he did every morning.

Apollo smiled at him, invisible. "Stay safe, Hector. Your brother might just doom you."

* * *

**King Menelaus's Palace in Sparta, Greece**

"Welcome, Prince Paris of Troy. It is an honor to have you here with us."

Paris smiled at his host charmingly. "Merci, King Menelaus. I am honored to be here."

Helen sighed at the sound of his voice. Truly, she had always thought that her husband was very cute with his big green eyes and scruffy hair, but this visitor from Troy was something else. He looked like a statue come to life, glowing and perfect. She kept stealing furtive glances at him and blushing.

"You bring news from your father, King Priam?" Menelaus kept his voice light, but Helen saw him making a fist under the table.

Paris laughed breezily. "Ah, yes. My father wishes for our two kingdoms to have better relations, so he sent me as his envoy. I hope that our good relations can last for many generations."

Menelaus nodded stiffly. "I hope that we can continue to be peaceful as well. Please, enjoy the banquet. We have set aside a grand room for you, and you're welcome for as long as you like."

"Your hospitality is most appreciated, monsieur." As everyone cheered and ate, Paris caught Helen's gaze and winked.

That night, he was still on her mind.

Menelaus paced across their room, fuming. "I just don't trust him. He's an Easterner, you know. He reeks of perfume, and he keeps flirting with everything on two legs. Maybe I shouldn't leave while he's here."

Helen frowned at her husband. "Oh give him a chance, sweetie. I think he's a fine man."

Menelaus turned on Helen in disbelief. "You do? I trust him least of all with you. A cad like him will definitely try to woo you if I'm not here."

Helen laughed, knowing it was true. "Then you'll just have to trust _me_. And if he tries anything, you can always count on the oath made by my old suitors. All of Greece will come to help you if anything happens to me, remember?"

Menelaus seemed to struggle with this, but eventually he gave in. "You're right. I suppose it's only gentlemanly for a host to trust his guests."

"Exactly. So go to the funeral in Crete. I'll be right here when you get back." Helen smiled at her husband and caressed his face. But instead of green eyes she saw blue ones, and instead of messy, sandy hair she saw shining blonde locks. She wondered what it would be like to kiss his lips.

As it turned out, she didn't have to wonder for long. Paris showed her just a few days later, as they sailed to Troy together in the night.

* * *

**Mount Pelion in Thessaly**

_"You're a disgrace! Look what you've done!" "He killed him. What a horrible child." "His poor father must be so ashamed."_

"Patroclus."

_"I'm sorry. I'm sorry."_

"Patroclus!"

_"Who are you?" "I'm Achilles."_

"Pat!"

"Ah!" Patroclus sat up, sweating and trembling. Achilles knelt beside him, his worried face bathed in moonlight.

"Did you have a nightmare again, Pat?"

He panted and nodded. "Yeah. The same one." He glanced around. "Did I wake up Chiron?"

"No, he's still snoozing over there." Achilles sat beside his best friend and nudged him. "Be grateful. If you woke him up in the middle of the night, he'd give us the boringest lessons tomorrow."

"You mean most boring." Patroclus shuddered. He was still shaken up.

Achilles smiled at him softly. "Are you still dreaming about your childhood?"

A nod. "Yes. I saw the boy dying again, and my father screaming at me. I—"

"Geez, Pat, I've been telling you this since we were kids! You're not a bad guy; it was an accident. And it's your dad's loss for casting you out." The aspiring hero nodded resolutely. "Besides, it worked out. Thanks to all that, you got to meet me."

Patroclus smiled. "Yeah. I dreamed about that part too."

Achilles laughed. "Hey, you know what'll make you feel better? A trip out to the river."

"Why? What's in the river?"

"My mom. I want you to meet her." Already he was standing and heading out of the cave. "Come on!"

Patroclus quickly got up and followed, his heart pounding. "Are you sure Chiron will be okay with us being up so late?"

"Yeah, why not?" Achilles darted down the mountain effortlessly as Patroclus struggled to keep up. The latter admired, not for the first time, how his best friend had grown up so well in the last few years. Whereas Patroclus was gangly and awkward, Achilles was muscled and lean. As befitting someone destined to be the greatest Greek hero ever.

"Okay, this should be good." Achilles stopped by a river and Patroclus sat beside him, sighing with relief. Achilles cleared his throat. "Mom? Are you there?"

The surface of the water stirred and a beautiful person suddenly rose up out of it. The nymph had short, pale blonde hair and wide purple eyes. A salty smell, like the ocean breeze, emanated from her skin.

Patroclus gazed upon Achilles' mother and did a double take. _'Is she a...'_

"Hi, Mom!" Achilles grinned up at her. "How are you?"

Thetis looked at her son and smiled serenely. "Hi, Achilles. I'm well. Who is this boy that you've brought with you?"

Patroclus straightened as Achilles introduced him. "This is Patroclus, my best friend. He's been training with me under Chiron."

Patroclus stuttered a greeting. Thetis considered him for a moment before turning back to her son. "And how's the training going? Is it helping?"

Achilles puffed out his chest. "I've already mastered combat, so I'm learning medicine and the lyre. I'm ready to take my place as the greatest Greek hero. And Patroclus has sworn to stand by me."

"Who?"

"Patroclus. Right there."

"Ah yes." Thetis smiled. "In that case, you're in luck. A Trojan prince has just kidnapped the bride of the Spartan king. A war will start, and when it does, you should leave this mountain and return to your father's castle to join the Greek army."

Patroclus noted the excitement on Achilles' face. "Yes, Mom."

Thetis smiled and sank back into the water. Patroclus let this news sink in. To be honest, he didn't want to go back to the castle. The mountain was so much more peaceful, and he didn't want his time there to end. But when Achilles took his hands and smiled, his brilliant blue eyes blazing, Patroclus got the feeling that he would follow this boy anywhere, even to certain death.

"Can you believe it, Pat? My destiny's finally starting to come true."

"Yes. I'm happy for you."

Achilles frowned. "You don't sound very happy."

"I'm sorry. I just, uh..." Patroclus decided to change the subject. "Is your mother a man?"

"Oh. Yeah." Achilles laughed. "Well she's a sea nymph, and she can change her form. Ever since my dad raped her, she's occasionally taken the shape of a man. Something about honoring chastity."

"But isn't the goddess of chastity a man-hating woman?"

A strong wind blew and the moon suddenly went out behind a cloud. Patroclus clapped a hand over his mouth, his heart racing. _'Oh gods, I've offended Artemis.' _He looked up fearfully, but in a moment the wind subsided and the moon shone again. Achilles burst into laughter.

"The look on your face! Oh man..."

"Shut up! I actually thought I was going to die!" Patroclus shoved his best friend half-heartedly, but of course it did nothing. And in hindsight it _was _kind of funny, so soon Patroclus was laughing with him, the promise of war was just a distant dream to two boys on top of the world.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Sorry for the awkward time-skipping and stuff. Squeezing this many years and characters into one story is hard for me. :/ Anyway, if you're wondering how Achilles and Patroclus had time to grow up, in the original story Paris had a bunch of adventures between meeting the goddesses and abducting Helen (several years' worth). I didn't bother including that because it's frankly unimportant, but there you go.

Translations:

Merci (French): thank you

Monsieur (French): mister, sir


	3. Finding an Army

**Chapter 3: Finding an Army**

Deidameia/Vietnam: the princess of Scyros, Lycomedes' daughter

Lycomedes: the king of Scyros

Priam/Germania: the king of Troy, father of Paris and Hector among others

* * *

**King Peleus's Palace in Thessaly, Greece**

Now that they were back in the castle, it was like they never left.

Achilles stretched and yawned. "Feels like just yesterday we ditched this place."

Patroclus smiled sleepily from across the room. "Well we're leaving tomorrow anyway."

"You don't have to remind me! I'm so excited I can't even sleep." Achilles grinned ear to ear. "What do you think it'll be like being in the army?"

Patroclus sighed, his eyes already closed. "I dunno. Scary, I guess."

"Scary? Nothing's scary for me!" Achilles laughed boisterously. "But if _you_ get scared Pat, I'll protect you. A hero doesn't let his best friend get hurt! I mean, what would I be if I didn't take care of others? Not a hero at all! Never fear, Patroclus, I promise that I—"

"Achilles."

"Yeah?"

"Go to sleep."

He pouted. "You're no fun. All right, good night." He waited a few moments for Patroclus to respond, but he must have already dozed off. Achilles smiled slowly and lay down on his own bed, but he wasn't tired in the least. For a few hours he just lay there, staring at the walls and the moonlight and Patroclus's face.

Achilles sighed and shut his eyes. _'Okay, just don't think about anything and take deep breaths. Or maybe counting will help. But why sheep? I'd rather count something else. Something like—' _The smell hit him first. It was salty, like the sea. Achilles opened his eyes and sat up quickly, but a cold hand was pressed against his lips before he could even draw a breath. He felt himself being dragged out the window, and in no time at all the demigod was racing across the landscape faster than any human could go. Looking up, Achilles saw his mother's face above him, cold and determined. He pried off her hand.

"Mom, where are you taking me?"

"Somewhere safe."

"What? What do you mean? Patroclus is still back there."

"You don't need him."

"Yes I do! Yes I do!"

The nymph frowned and clapped her hand back over her son's mouth. "I'm sorry Achilles, but you're never going to see him again. King Lycomedes has a beautiful daughter; why don't you look at her instead? Okay? You'll thank me someday." They reached their destination, and she released him.

Achilles just gaped mutely. _'Never see him again? Never, never...'_

Behind them, there came the sound of footsteps.

"Is this your son, my lady?"

"Yes, this is him. Achilles, greet Princess Deidameia."

Achilles turned numbly and saw a girl there, about his age. Some part of his shocked mind registered that she was very beautiful, but her long black hair lashing in the wind and hard brown eyes were far from what he wanted to see at that moment.

Thetis spoke tersely. "Princess, look after my child. You have to disguise him so the army recruiters don't find him."

"Understood."

"Good. Achilles? Son?" Achilles didn't answer her, and eventually he heard the sound of his mother splashing back into the sea. Princess Deidameia stepped forward and took his hand.

"Prince Achilles. I've heard much about you and your prowess on the battlefield. It's a shame that you can't join the war, but your mother assured me that there are good reasons for that. In the meantime, I think you'll enjoy your time here." She hesitated and a look of distaste flickered across her face. "Your mother also said...that I should keep you company."

"What are you doing?" She was very close. Suddenly her arms were around his neck.

"I don't like it any more than you do. But I can't disobey a goddess, can I?" She kissed him.

* * *

**King Peleus's Palace in Thessaly, Greece**

Patroclus almost screamed himself hoarse calling for his best friend that day. In his mind, he vowed that he would make Achilles pay for that if he ever found him.

_'Where could he be? There's no way he chickened out of joining the army. He was so excited.'_ Patroclus sighed and thought of who there was left to ask. There was only one person, really.

"King Peleus, thank you for speaking with me."

"N' problem for m'son's favorite."

Patroclus was touched by the compliment. "Actually, Achilles is who I wanted to talk to you about. I can't find him anywhere, and the delegation for the war is leaving soon. Do you know where he is?"

"...Yes."

"Please, can you tell me?"

King Peleus looked down sternly, seemingly lost in thought. Patroclus's palms were sweaty when the king suddenly spoke. "What was m'son to you, Patr'clus?"

"Huh?" The question caught him off guard. Patroclus fidgeted and stuttered a little, trying to think of the right answer. What was Achilles to him? Well of course, it wasn't a hard question. "He was my best friend. He, uh...accepted my past. And he made me feel needed. And I think he's the most important person...to me."

The king nodded, as if he already expected this answer. "Then d'you know what he's destined t' do? Kill people. Will y'care for him then?"

Patroclus closed his eyes and thought of the boy he knew, smiling with his blunted practice sword. He wouldn't hurt anyone, but it was his destiny. "Yes. I'll care for him no matter what he does."

The king laughed softly, and Patroclus's eyes flew open in shock. Peleus was actually smiling. "Scyr's. With Lyc'medes. Thetis t'ld me she took h'm yesterday."

_'Scyros.' _He could sail there. "Thank you. Thank you so much." Patroclus stood quickly and started to leave. He was halfway to the door when he realized just how lonely the king must be. Of course. He had just lost his son too. Patroclus stopped and turned. "Are you all right, King Peleus?"

The old king looked at Patroclus sadly and simply said, "I w'ld've spent m'whole life m'king it up t' her. I loved her. B't she wouldn't f'rgive me for someth'ng I was forced t' do. Always f'rgive m'son, Patr'clus. He's a good boy."

The words rang in his mind through the whole boat ride to Scyros.

* * *

**King Priam's Palace in Troy**

"You are a fool, Paris. A complete and utter fool! I knew I should've killed you. I knew that you'd be trouble. Now because of your lust I have to defend against an army that is surely coming."

Hector noted that his brother's handsome face didn't even flinch as their father rained criticisms down on him. Instead, the banished prince simply said, "But you _will _defend against the army. And let me and Helen stay."

King Priam's sharp blue eyes flashed and his head whipped around so fast that his long hair fanned out behind him. "Yes I will. But _not _because of you. If I could, I would just send the girl back and be done with it. But that would dishonor my name and my kingdom, so I will send my troops to fight and die for your mistake. I hope you're happy."

"Ecstatic."

"Get out of my sight."

Paris bowed mockingly and left. Hector quickly excused himself and went after him.

"Paris. Wait."

"What do you want, _Prince _Hector?"

"I think you should consider sending Helen back peacefully. We don't need a war right now."

Paris turned and glared, his nonchalant mask dropped. "Why should I? What do I care for this kingdom, huh?"

Hector hesitantly reached out to him. "Bruder—"

"Don't call me brother! Priam sent me to live on that horrible mountain _tending sheep _while you lived a real prince's life!" Paris took a step back. "I don't care if people die; I'm getting what I want!"

Hector shook his head. "But mother's dream said that you would ruin this country. Our father was doing what was best for everyone. There was no choice."

"There is always a choice." Paris shook his head, disgusted. "But I suppose you wouldn't understand. Everyone loves you, right? You're a prince, a hero, and that old man's spitting image."

Hector growled and let his hand drop. "Don't be so self-centered. What's worth more? The lives of everyone in this city, or one person?"

"That one person was _me!_"

"You should've been grateful to be alive!" Paris flinched visibly, but Hector didn't stop. "Everyone thought Father should kill you. But he couldn't do it. That herdsman who took you in was called instead, but clearly he couldn't do it either. When you think of how lucky you were—"

"What? De quoi parles-tu?" Paris flushed. "Being kicked out for something that wasn't my fault isn't _lucky_!" He took a step forward, to what purpose Hector didn't know. Surely he couldn't think he could do any physical damage. But at that moment a bright flash of light came in through the window and blinded Paris before he could do anything at all. He staggered back and blinked rapidly to clear his vision while Hector sent a confused look at the window behind him. When he looked back, Paris had already run away.

Hector shoook his head. "What was that?" He turned and looked outside. And he thought he saw, just for a moment, a smiling brown-haired youth with an errant curl sticking out the left side of his head.

* * *

**Scyros, Greece**

When Achilles saw Patroclus again, he thought he had finally gone crazy from grief. Thetis had said that he'd never see him again, but there he was in the flesh. It kind of ruined their reunion that the world's greatest hero was in a dress, but Achilles was so happy to see his old friend that he almost forgot to be embarrassed. Almost.

"Stop laughing, Pat."

He nodded rapidly and tried to, but to no avail. Achilles glared. "Seriously, we're not supposed to be out here."

"I know. I'm sorry. It's just...you look really funny. Why are you cross-dressing?"

Achilles picked at his girly clothes disdainfully. "My mom didn't want me to join the war. She took me here and told me to pretend to be a lady-in-waiting so the army recruiters won't find me." He groaned. "They call me Pyrrha. Such a girl's name."

Patroclus frowned. "Your mom didn't want you to go? But she seemed excited about the war before."

"I know. Something made her change her mind, I guess. Anyway, how did you get here? How did you find me?"

"Your father told me where you are, and I hitched a ride down. I missed you."

Achilles smiled and took his friend's hands. "I missed you t—"

"There you are. I thought I'd find you out here."

The two turned to see Princess Deidameia approaching. Her long black ponytail streamed in the wind behind her, making her look as intimidating as always. She grabbed Achilles' hands, forcing him to release Patroclus. "Achilles. Do you know this boy?"

"Achilles?" Patroclus looked surprised. "You know that he's a man?"

"Of course I do. I've slept with him."

Patroclus inhaled sharply and stiffened. Achilles frowned at him, concerned. "Pat. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just. I just...guess I should leave you two alone." He mumbled an apology and took off.

Achilles shook Deidameia off. "Wait! Patroclus!"

"Where do you think you're going?" The princess grabbed at him, glaring. "Your responsibility is to me. We are married."

"What are you talking about? You don't even like me, and we never got married. I'm going after Patroclus, and then I'll leave with him."

"You can't leave now!" A note of desperation crept into her voice. "I'm pregnant."

Achilles froze. He turned back to stare at her. "Really?"

"Yes." She held her stomach, looking strangely fragile. "Yes."

"...I'm sorry about that." Then Achilles turned and ran from her. He easily caught up with Patroclus and hugged him from behind. "Pat. Why are you so upset? What's the matter?"

Patroclus was trembling. He shook his head. "Nothing's the matter. I guess I was just surprised."

"You're not just surprised. Are you upset because I had sex with her? Because I didn't really want to. It was my mom; she was the one—"

"Your mom? That's odd, considering how she's honoring chastity."

Achilles cringed. "It's the truth! You know how hypocritical gods are. I guess she was more worried about me being lonely than she was about anything else. It's terrible, I know. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize to me." Patroclus sighed. "If anything, _I_ should feel bad for _you_. Your mom forced you to be with the princess?"

"Well...she forced _her_ to be with _me_, technically."

"What? And you just _let _that happen?" Patroclus struggled against Achilles' grip, but to no effect. "That's horrible! Why didn't you just tell her she could stop?"

Achilles held on tighter. "What? No, I did! Well...I mean...technically I didn't. But I wasn't in my right mind! And I'll never have sex with anyone ever again if you don't want me to, I promise. This time was just because I missed you. I thought I'd never see you again."

Patroclus groaned. "Why do you keep bringing me into this? It's not like I have anything to do with it. It's none of my business."

"It's totally your business." Achilles released Patroclus and turned him around so he could face him. "I asked you to promise to stay with me forever, Pat. Because you're the only person who I want to be around all the time. And I, y'know, I..."

Patroclus had started smiling slowly, and he looked kind of surreal in the moonlight. Achilles suddenly realized just how close he had come to never seeing that face again, and he was seized with fear. He'd never let them get separated again. If he could have Patroclus then he'd never need anything else; he was the only one he wanted. He had to show it.

So he kissed him.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Lots of fact checking this time. First of all, Paris was happily welcomed back by his family because they all forgot why he was banished in the first place. Seriously, they forgot. Well I thought that was unrealistic, and having it this way gives his character more depth. Second of all, no one coerced Deidameia or Achilles to have sex (but you guessed that already, didn't you?) It was just so out of character for Vietnam and counter to Achilles' relationship with Patroclus, so I made some adjustments. Hope that isn't too off-putting for anyone.

Translations:

Bruder (German): brother

De quois parles-tu (French): what are you talking about


	4. The Journey to Troy

**Chapter 4: The Journey to Troy**

Odysseus/Greece: the very clever king of Ithaca

Agamemnon/Australia: the king of Mycenae, brother of Menelaus, and general of all the Greek troops

Iphigenia/Wy: Agamemnon's daughter

Nicostratus/Sealand: Helen and Menelaus's son

Hermione: Helen and Menelaus's daughter

Poseidon: god of the sea

I apologize in advance for my fail Australian slang. (All from the Internet. OTL )

* * *

**King Lycomedes' Palace in Scyros, Greece**

"King Lycomedes, I'd like to thank you for your hospitality towards me and my allies. To show my appreciation, I present to you gifts for your lovely daughter and her ladies in waiting."

Patroclus couldn't help feeling a little nervous as King Odysseus made this speech and slowly unloaded jewelry on a table. The man was legendary for his cunning (though he didn't look it with all those cats hanging off of him), and earlier he had said that he was looking for Achilles.

Patroclus hoped that the hero's disguise would hold up. Cruel though Thetis's methods were, she must have had some reason to keep her son from going to war. Maybe if they could escape from this place, they'd have a happy life somewhere else.

Princess Deidameia's girls flocked to the pretty trinkets, and Achilles went with them, trying to blend in. Odysseus watched them closely and spoke up again. "Of course, if that's not to your liking then I have other gifts as well." He reached into a bag and brought out beautiful daggers and spears, fit for a king. When Achilles saw these, his eyes lit up and he rushed over to take one. Too late, he realized his mistake.

"How strange to have a woman who will take up arms ahead of jewelry. Or maybe you're not what you seem." Odysseus reached out and pulled off the fabric that hid Achilles' short hair. Everyone but Patroclus gasped.

Putting down the knife that he had picked up, Achilles ripped off the top of his dress, revealing his flat chest and muscled arms. "Okay, I'm a guy. My name is Achilles, and I am the prince of Phthia. King Lycomedes, I'm sorry to have taken advantage of your hospitality like this. Also, I'm sorry that I...impregnated your daughter."

Another gasp went up. Patroclus felt dizzy. _'Impregnated?' _Suddenly he felt terrible for the princess all over again. He took a few deep breaths.

"Leave me. Leave my kingdom at once." The king looked frail.

Achilles nodded. "Okay. I'm sorry. Patroclus?"

"I'm coming."

As Odysseus led them out to his ship, he gave Patroclus a lazy once-over. "Who are you?"

"I am the son of Menoetius."

"I didn't know he had a son."

"He's my companion. That's all you need to know." Achilles flashed his friend a reassuring grin and took his hand.

Odysseus glanced at their interlaced fingers and shrugged. "Fine by me. So are you two going to join the war, or what?"

"No!" The three men turned to the sea, where the beautiful form of Thetis had materialized. She gave Achilles a beseeching look. "Don't go, Achilles. If you go, you'll die."

Patroclus's heart stopped. "What?"

"That's why I brought you out here, Achilles. There's been a prophecy that you'll die in this war after the Trojan prince Hector does."

"Better to die in glory than live in long obscurity." Odysseus stroked his cats lazily and stared at Achilles. "I'll admit it; I didn't want to go to the war either. But you've got bigger things in your future than me. Everyone' s already talking about you and your fighting skills; if you go, you'll be a hero. If you don't, no one will even recognize your name when you're dead."

Achilles looked torn. He turned to Patroclus. "What should I do, Pat?"

_'Stay home. Save yourself.' _Patroclus smiled. "I'll follow you wherever you go."

"Okay." He turned to Odysseus. "I want to be a hero."

* * *

**Aulis, Greece**

Menelaus watched his brother prancing about, rallying their troops, and he wondered again how they could be related. Other than the eyebrows, Menelaus and Agamemnon didn't have anything in common. The king of Sparta was a gentleman. The king of Mycenae was a lunatic, but still he was the general of all the Greek troops.

"Come on now! We're not gonna let some bloody wombats kick us in the arse, are we? Soon as our little hero gets here, we'll—"

The general paused as a dull roar went up from the edges of the assembly. Menelaus squinted towards the shore and saw a ship pulling up. Soon there was chanting.

"A-chil-les! A-chil-les!"

There he was. The greatest Greek hero was so young, barely a man, but he shone like a god with the sun at his back. He disembarked from his ship and approached his general. The men parted quickly for him.

Agamemnon grinned wide. "There he is! What took you so long, mate?"

"You don't wanna know." Achilles laughed. "King Agamemnon, my name is Achilles. I'm the son of Peleus and Thetis, prince of Phthia, and the greatest Greek hero ever. I promise I will lead the troops to victory in this war."

"Actually, _I'm _leading the tro—" Agamemnon's complaint was lost in the roars of approval that followed the hero's speech. Menelaus saw his brother's face twitch with annoyance. That didn't bode well.

"King Menelaus."

His gaze shifted from his brother to the young hero. "Yes, Prince Achilles."

"You're the one whose wife was taken, right?"

Menelaus felt a familiar surge of anger in the pit of his stomach. "I am."

All of a sudden, the boy was beaming. "That sucks, but don't worry. I'll get her back for you."

"...You will?" Shocked at his optimism, Menelaus was rather lost for words. He looked out at the sea of men, all ready to fight. Helen's suitors had been many, and most honored their oath. And now the greatest Greek hero was with them too. So why did he have such a bad feeling about all this?

"All right, settle down, ya drongos!" Agamemnon raised his voice to call to the troops. "Rest up while you can! Soon as the wind's in our favor, we sail to Troy!"

* * *

**King Priam's Palace in Troy**

Helen was great in bed, just like Paris knew she would be.

After another tumble in the sheets, Paris was stroking his new partner's hair casually. He was loving this princely life.

"Aren't you so glad you're here, mon amour?"

Helen smiled. "Yes. You're so much more fun than my old husband, and everyone here compliments me. But I worry about you."

Paris frowned. "Worry? Why are you worried for me, cherie?"

She stirred. "My old suitors made an oath to defend my honor. I think they and my husband will come to fight."

Paris thought back on that scrawny fool Menelaus and smirked. "Well my old man and that bore Hector already suspected that. No worries; they're preparing the army just for you. And they've had plenty of time to do it, since those Greeks sure are taking their time, if they're coming at all." He laughed breezily. "Not like I have to fight anyway. So you don't miss anything at all?"

Helen sighed. "Well...I miss my children a little bit."

Paris's hand froze on her brown locks. "Children?"

"Yes. My daughter Hermione is nine, and she's very beautiful. And my son Nicostratus is a baby. He looks just like his father, but with blue eyes."

He didn't remember any children from that old castle. Paris shuddered and resumed his stroking. "Blue eyes like mine, huh?"

"Oh no." Helen looked up, her gaze brimming with love. "Not nearly as pretty as yours."

The Trojan prince smirked. "That's what I thought."

* * *

**Mount Olympus, home of the gods**

"Pasta, pasta, pasta..." Apollo looked down at Troy and smiled serenely. "I sure hope the war doesn't start soo—"

"Holy shit, it's a bloodbath out there!" Artemis appeared in a flash of silver, and his twin yelped. "Ares started a fight with Athena, the dumbass. Man, I thought she was gonna cut off his—"

"Fratello, you surprised me." Apollo pouted. "Are they fighting about the war? Is everyone picking sides already?"

"Of course. What did you expect?" Artemis rolled his eyes. "Obviously Aphrodite's siding with that human pretty boy, and the other two are against him. Poseidon's with Greece, but that stupid albino is with Troy. And Zeus is too scared to even pick a side because of his batshit wife." He eyed his twin. "You're siding with Troy, aren't you?"

Apollo bit his lip and nodded. "You know, 'cause Hector's there."

Artemis rolled his eyes. "Honestly, I don't know why you like that weird-smelling macho freak so much."

"Why don't you like him, fratello? He's a really good guy."

"Doubt it. And he's married."

"Ve, so?"

"So married people are stupid." Honestly, how many times did he have to say it? "And I thought that you'd get jealous and crazy again. That whole episode with that one descendant of Ares' was pretty ugly."

"No, I'm not jealous!" Apollo giggled. "This is different. I just want him to be happy. His family makes him happy, so why is that a problem?"

"How should I know? I don't get this stuff anyway." Artemis sat down heavily. "In any case, you shouldn't get so attached to someone going into a war. He'll probably die."

Apollo wailed and shook his head rapidly. "Don't say that, fratello! It makes me so sad."

"What, you're the one who's supposed to be able to see the future. Shouldn't you know all this already?" Apollo shook his head some more, and Artemis just sighed. "Well I still don't like any of this, but I'll side with you anyway. I've already stalled the Greek fleet at Aulis."

"Ve, you did?" Apollo looked down at Greece this time and saw their ships, not moving. "Why?"

"Because they pissed me off, that's why." Artemis smirked. "But I might forgive them, if they pay the proper price."

* * *

**Aulis, Greece**

Patroclus couldn't take it anymore. He sat up and shook Achilles' shoulder. "Achilles. Are you awake?" His voice was a rasping whisper.

"Yeah." The young hero stood and helped up his companion. "Let's go to the water."

The sea was little relief, but it still helped. Patroclus sighed and looked up at the stars. "This can't be natural. There hasn't even been a breeze in weeks. I can hardly breathe."

Achilles made a face and flopped down on the ground. "I'll say. Everyone's suffocating."

"Do you think it's a sign from the gods? Maybe they don't want us to go to Troy."

Patroclus watched as Achilles threw a stone into the still sea. It was like ripples in a mirror. "We have a priest for that. Agamemnon went to talk to him yesterday. Maybe we'll hear news soon."

"I hope so."

And they did hear, the very next day.

Agamemnon stood before his troops and told them that the goddess Artemis was angry because of the killing of one of her sacred animals. To appease her, they should make a grand sacrifice. Many cattle were being prepared.

"Also, uh...there's a bit more." The Greek general licked his lips and his gaze darted. "My daughter Iphigenia is coming. She's only staying for a day, but to appease the goddess, we decided to hold a wedding. So Achilles, greatest of Greeks."

All eyes went to him. Patroclus was confused. A wedding?

"Achilles, will you marry my daughter so we can sail to Troy?"

Silence. Even more than before, Patroclus felt like he was suffocating. Achilles was getting married? Just when they were...

Patroclus noticed his best friend's eyes on him. There was a question in them. Of course, Achilles would turn down the offer if his greatest companion asked it of him. But Artemis had to make the wind blow again. There was no choice, and it was only for a day.

Patroclus nodded. Achilles turned back to Agamemnon and said, "I'd be honored."

The next few days were like a blur.

When Iphigenia arrived, everyone agreed that she was a lovely girl. Still very young, the princess had a spunky look to her brown eyes and wild side ponytail. She looked very excited.

Patroclus tried to be happy for his friend, but it was hard. All eyes were on him and his bride as she approached him at the altar. King Agamemnon must have been ecstatic, since he looked near tears as his daughter approached her fiancée.

"Don't blink kid, or you might miss it."

Patroclus turned and gasped at what he saw. A handsome man with deep brown hair and lightly tanned skin stood there with his arms crossed. A strange curl jutted out the right side of his head, and he wore silver robes.

Patroclus was dumbfounded. "Who are you?"

The man gave him an 'are you serious' look and snapped, "I'm Artemis! Duh! Didn't the silver and the glowing give it away?"

"But...Artemis is a woman."

"Oh yeah, I'm a woman!" He scowled. "You stupid mortals have been messing up my gender for centuries! What, a man can't value chastity? I'm the god of hunting too, y'know! That's very manly!"

Patroclus nodded slowly. "Yes. It is. Um...my lord Artemis, can I ask what you're doing here?"

He seemed to calm down a bit and even started to smile. "I just wanted to see the sacrifice you mortals are making to me."

"Sacrifice? But we're not killing the cattle until la—"

A scream rent the silence, clear and bloodcurdling in the muggy air. Patroclus turned just in time to see the princess falling, blood pouring out of the wound her father had given her with his now scarlet knife. Achilles was frozen, his arms held out to embrace his would-be bride as she landed just in front of him, leaving red drops on his arms, his chest, his cheeks.

The god spoke. "You should've guessed that this was the real intention. I hate weddings."

And with that, the wind started to blow again.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **I want to take this opportunity to thank my readers and reviewers, who I am extremely grateful to. Some of you have made suggestions for future characters, including Switzerland and Liechtenstein as Agamemnon and Iphigenia. I'm actually gonna use them elsewhere, but I'm really grateful for your input. :) On that note, I'd appreciate some suggestions for Andromache (Hector's wife). In my draft she's alluded to but not included because I'm frankly running out of female characters. (I've already used Taiwan, so the only one left I can think of is Monaco. That seems really random). Thanks! As far as fact checking goes, that little scene with Paris was my invention. Also, the "descendant of Ares" was alluding to Marpessa. She was a mortal princess loved by Apollo and Idas (a mortal). The two men fought for her love, but in the end she chose Idas.

Translations:

Mon amour (French): my love

Cherie (French): dear


	5. The Beginning of War

**Chapter 5: The Beginning of War**

* * *

**Troy**

When the Greek ships finally approached the shore at Troy, everyone was waiting for Achilles to show off his legendary skills.

The hero squeezed Patroclus's hand, hoping for a quick and easy fight. Even if it was what he was born to do, Achilles was still a little shaken by killing. _'It's because of Iphigenia, isn't it?'_ But he had to be a hero. And heroes won wars.

"I think I can get one of them with a spear from here, Pat."

"If you're sure."

Achilles sensed the tension in his friend's voice and turned on him beseechingly. "Come on, Pat. I have to do it. We came all this way."

"I know." Patroclus picked up a spear and handed it to him stiffly. Achilles took it, testing it in his hand. He squinted at the shore where the Trojans milled about, like ants. Effortlessly, he threw.

The weapon shot neatly through the air, farther than any spear should be able to go. A distant figure on the beach fell.

All at once a roar went up from both sides and weapons started to fly. Many of them fell short, splashing into the water harmlessly, but Achilles' always found their target. He felt something stir in his chest.

Patroclus grabbed his arm and pointed. "Achilles, look. That tall blonde with the slicked back hair must be Hector."

"Are you sure?"

"The others told me that he's the greatest warrior on the Trojan side. It must be him."

Indeed, Hector was very impressive in his majestic chariot. As the fleet neared and the first Greek set foot on Troy's beach, Hector felled him easily.

"So I won't die until he does." Achilles started smiling despite himself. No way anyone could kill Hector, except maybe Achilles himself. So he had a while yet.

As the Greek ships started emptying with a flood of glinting armor and bristling spears, the Trojans were outnumbered and had to surrender the beach. Achilles hopped onto the sand with a laugh. "Maybe this won't be too boring after all."

"What do you mean 'boring'? We'd be lucky if we could just go home."

Achilles turned to see who had spoken. It was Odysseus, looking sleepy and covered in cats as always. "Menelaus and I are going to the king to see if he'll return Helen peacefully. With any luck, he'll say yes." He fixed Achilles with his unnerving gaze. "Of course, that means our hero here might not get the glory he signed up for. Does it disappoint you?"

"Of course it doesn't disappoint him." Patroclus spoke up hotly, looking defensive. "It'd be wonderful if there wasn't a war. Right, Achilles?"

No war? Achilles felt a stab of something unpleasant but quickly tried to hide it. He grinned at Patroclus. "Yeah, that'd be awesome."

* * *

**King Priam's Palace in Troy**

Hector could feel the anger coming from his father; it was palpable. All night the king had been pleasant enough to the Greek embassy, but the scuffle on the beach was fresh on everyone's minds. The Trojan army was ready for a fight, and—knowing his father—Hector was sure they'd get one.

The Trojan prince appraised the ambassadors from the enemy camp. One had identified himself as Odysseus, known far and wide for his cunning. He currently had a calico kitten napping on his head. The other Hector would've known was Menelaus, even if he hadn't given his name, as he was apparently trying to kill Paris with his gaze.

"Ambassadors of Greece, I hope that you enjoyed the banquet we had prepared for you." King Priam spoke stiffly. Hector knew no agreement would be reached tonight.

Odysseus nodded. "We did. Thank you." Menelaus said nothing.

The Trojan king continued, "I understand that you've journeyed all this way to ask for the return of the queen of Sparta, Helen."

"And my treasure." That was Menelaus, his eyes flashing. "He raided my treasury as well." Paris shifted a little in his seat.

"Right." Priam coughed a little. "Well unfortunately, she seems rather happy here. I would not get in the way of a lady's wishes, and she wishes to be with my son."

"Impossible!" Hector almost thought Menelaus was going to start foaming at the mouth, but his companion calmed him down by putting a hand on his shoulder. Then Odysseus addressed his host.

"King Priam, are you sure about this? If you make this decision now, then a war is inevitable. Is one girl really worth all the bloodshed that is sure to follow? One of ours, Achilles, is very skilled. He's been blessed by the gods."

_'Achilles.'_ He must have been that soldier who threw the first weapon. His aim was impressive.

Odysseus's subtle threat wasn't lost on Priam. He glared. "My word is final. The girl stays."

"So be it." Menelaus spun on his heel and left. Odysseus inclined his head, almost tipping out the kitten, and then exited as well.

Paris broke the tense silence that followed. "Well they took that pretty well! All right, I'm off to bed." He pranced out of the room, ignoring the many glares sent his way. Hector followed him, determined.

"Paris!"

His brother turned, scowling. "What?"

"You're fighting in this war too. It's your fault that any of this has even happened."

Paris gawked. " Fighting? Moi? I'm not a warrior. I'll be killed!"

"We all risk being killed. But if we die, we die with honor." Hector nodded sternly. "At least use a bow and arrows."

Paris recoiled, his blue eyes filled with fear. "What if I say no?"

"Then I'll drag you to the battlefield myself."

Paris held Hector's gaze for all of three seconds before he yielded. "Fine. I'll fight in this stupid war. I'll show you! I'll kill Achilles myself!" He snarled and ran away to his and Helen's room. Hector sighed and sent a silent prayer to the gods.

_'Please keep my city and my people safe.' _He tried to picture the boy he'd seen earlier, with the strange curl and brown hair. He'd blinded Paris with a flash of light. The god of light, perhaps? That would have to be—

"Ve, you're praying to me? That's so sweet!"

Hector gasped and looked around. There was no one. "Who said that?"

"Oh, don't worry! It's just me. I'm not actually there with you, but I thought I'd talk to you a bit before you go into the battle. Can you hear me all right?"

Who could be speaking to him telepathically like this? It had to be a god. Hector quickly kneeled and bowed his head. "My lord Apollo. Is this you?"

The voice gasped delightedly. "You knew it was me! Bravo! I knew I made the right choice to support you. Artemis will have to like you now."

Supporting him? "My lord, you've chosen to give Troy your support?"

"Of course. You deserve to win." The god laughed, and Hector thought he sounded like the happiest person alive. "Most of us are on your side, Hector. Just be careful out there! That Achilles is real strong. You might want to stay away from him."

Hector made a mental note of this advice. "I will, my lord. Thank you."

The god answered with more of his musical laughter, and—despite everything—the prince of Troy felt at ease.

* * *

**The Battlefield**

"Just stay near me and try to dodge. You'll be fine, I promise. I'll protect you."

Patroclus tried to listen to Achilles' encouragement, but it was hard. He was sweating heavily in his armor and his heart was pounding. "I think I'm going to be sick."

"Please don't be. That'd be gross."

All of a sudden a trumpet sounded and a deafening roar went up. A rush of armored bodies surged all around them, and Patroclus realized that there was no way he could stay with Achilles in this mayhem. He couldn't breathe.

_'I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die...'_ No point trying to be heroic. Patroclus dove down and stayed out of the way, hating his cowardice and being unable to fight it at the same time. He only dared to look up after a few minutes.

His breath caught all over again. Just a few meters away, Achilles was cutting and dodging and turning so fluidly that it almost looked like he was dancing. Trojans died all around him, and the few enemy weapons that made contact just bounced off. Patroclus gaped. Of course, with the blessing of the Styx, Achilles was invincible. He could protect himself and his friends with ease. Right?

Patroclus wasn't so sure. He eyed the enemy army, which he knew was full of men almost as legendary as Achilles was. He first spotted Paris, who stuck out like a sore thumb with his gleaming armor and billowing red cape. He was as beautiful as everyone said, though cruelly so, but he wasn't much of a fighter. Instead Patroclus looked for Hector, the only real threat.

The Trojan hero rode his chariot masterfully, as if his horses could read his mind. He felled soldiers left and right, and Patroclus couldn't keep a bit of admiration from creeping in with his horror. As the battle dragged on, Achilles obviously didn't engage Hector because of the prophecy regarding his own life. But Patroclus got the sneaking suspicion that Hector was deliberately avoiding Achilles too.

It was comforting. Or it should've been. But as he watched his childhood friend getting covered in a layer of blood, Patroclus couldn't help but think of the smiling boy who spoke of heroes and happy endings. What would happen to him?

_'Don't be stupid. All that matters is that he's alive, and so long as Hector lives, Achilles will live too.' _ But as he watched them both, far on opposite sides of the field, Patroclus couldn't help but fear how long the war would drag on while both these men continued to breathe.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Short one this time. Thanks to everyone who's read this far. :) I know it's not the best thing out there; I really appreciate you guys for bearing with me. Anyway, I don't think there's any evidence that Achilles and Hector deliberately avoided each other in the real story, but the fighting had to take nine years for _some_ reason. I think Hector had more of an audience when he convinced Paris to fight with them, but hopefully that's not a very important detail. "Moi" means "me" in French. (You all knew that already, right?) I'm starting to think the whole translation section is mostly unnecessary.


	6. Nine Years

**Chapter 6: Nine Years**

Briseis/Taiwan: a girl orphaned by the Greek raids, Achilles' war prize

Chryses/Switzerland: a priest of Apollo

Chryseis/Liechtenstein: daughter of Chryses, taken as a war prize by Agamemnon

* * *

**The Greek Camp**

For the first few years, Patroclus always worried. So that morning felt like any other.

"Remember, your mother said you'd die in this war."

"That's right."

"But only after Hector does. So maybe if you stay away from him, you'll be all right."

Achilles laughed and gaze Patroclus a reassuring hug. "Geez, I'll be all right. This is just a raid in the villages; Hector won't even be there. And you're here with me, so if I die I'll die happy."

Patroclus shoved him off with a smile. "When did you turn so sappy on me?"

"Hey, I was always this romantic." He pecked him on the lips. "I'll be back before you know it. You sure you don't want to fight with us today?"

Patroclus shuddered. "No, I think I'll be of more use tending to the wounded and the horses and...the wounded horses. You sure the others won't mind?"

Achilles winked. "Not if I tell them not to."

But he knew he wouldn't have to tell them not to. No one ever noticed when a few guys here and there stayed behind.

In the hero's opinion, it was unfortunate. Achilles knew Patroclus wasn't cut out for fighting and wanted to be a medic (he was a pretty good medic too). But, childish as it was, he wished his best friend could see him in battle, when he was at his best.

"All right, let's head out!" Achilles grinned widely as his troops whooped and followed him out of camp. Achilles glanced over his shoulder and spied Patroclus waving a little ways away, looking sad. Maybe it was a good thing that he wasn't coming today; a raid would've made him depressed. Achilles tried not to think about it as did what he did best (killed a few more people, took a few more towns), but the thought nagged at him. Agamemnon insisted that this was all necessary because they would cut off Troy's resources, but still. Fighting the Trojan army was one thing, but the people in these villages were mostly just farmers and their families. Sometimes Achilles felt guilty. Just a little bit.

As he returned to camp that day, Greece's hero found Patroclus waiting at the dais for prize distribution. Achilles waved at him, but Patroclus just cringed. _'Oh yeah, didn't wash off the blood. Shit.' _He tried to ignore it and went up to his friend casually. "Hey, Pat. What's up?"

"Oh, you know. The usual. Lot of arrow wounds today."

"That's cool." Achilles shifted his weight, weirdly uncomfortable. Why did Patroclus always get like this? A hero couldn't let anything get in his way. Surely he understood that.

Up on the dais, treasure and weapons and girls were unloaded for the taking. Patroclus sighed, and Achilles felt even more uncomfortable because here was another thing that made his best friend depressed: the girls. Young, exotic, and now orphaned, they were in pretty high demand back in the tents. It was cruel, but what else could they do? They were homeless because of the raids anyway.

Achilles was craning his neck to see if there was anything worth taking when he saw her. He gasped and grabbed Patroclus's arm. "Pat, look. Doesn't that girl there look just like Deidameia?"

Patroclus followed his gaze and inhaled sharply. The resemblance was undeniable. Even thought it obviously couldn't be her, this girl had the same dark hair, the same brown eyes, and the same porcelain skin as Lycomedes' daughter. The greatest difference was that, where the princess had exuded confidence and strength, this girl only had fear.

Achilles spoke before he knew what he was doing. "I'm going to take her."

"What?"

The hero stepped forward and raised his voice. "King Agamemnon, I want that girl as my prize."

A few cheers and cat calls went up from the men. Agamemnon considered Achilles with thinly veiled contempt. The general seemed to like him less and less as his reputation grew, but he must've known that it would be unseemly to turn down this request. Agamemnon nodded.

"Fine. Take the sheila." He pushed her at him, and Achilles caught her in his arms. He turned to Patroclus.

"Come on, Pat." His best friend nodded and followed mutely.

Achilles sat the girl down on the floor in their tent and she quickly flinched away from him. He didn't blame her. "Come on, Pat, I'll talk to you outside." He ushered Patroclus out of the tent. "So what I—oh, hey, what's the matter?"

He was obviously angry. Angry! Achilles had rarely seen him that way. Raising his normally quiet voice, Patroclus jabbed the hero in the chest, making him flinch. "Achilles, what _the hell_ are you doing? I mean, I can get over the killing; that's a part of war. But you don't have to do this. I can't believe you would."

Achilles stared at him, confused. "That I would what?"

"That you would take a...slave. That you would rape this girl who just lost her home."

Achilles' mouth fell open. "Rape her? Pat, I would never rape anyone! Come on, you know that. And I have _you_, so why would I need..."

Patroclus looked away. "She looks like Deidameia."

"So what? I didn't like her, Patroclus, really. Hear me out, please." Achilles hesitated. He suddenly felt as nervous as he had on the beach in Scyros, as if he were about to lose something important. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before he could speak. "Okay, so. The only reason why I even care that she looks like Deidameia is because I thought it was a sign or something. I messed up the princess's life, so I thought this was my chance to make it up to her. Or, y'know, someone who looks like her."

"Make it up to her by...?"

"Saving her from being raped by the other guys! This way no one else can take her. And I'm not gonna do anything to her, really. You believe me, right?"

"..." Patroclus was looking at him again, scrutinizing his face. He slowly smiled. "Yes. I believe you. Of course, I should've known that you were doing a good thing. I don't know what I was thinking. Forgive me."

Achilles felt a rush of relief and laughed. "There's nothing to forgive." He kissed his cheek. "But, um, I think I actually killed that girl's family, so can you go talk to her?"

Patroclus stiffened for a moment. "Yeah, of course I can."

* * *

**King Priam's Palace in Troy**

After so many long years, Paris realized that he was unhappy.

Another inconclusive battle had just ended, and the most beautiful man on Earth was getting tired of stupid Greeks trying to impale him (and not in the good way). And it wasn't just them; even the other Trojans seemed not to like Paris much anymore. They gave him dirty looks and blamed him for the war in no subtle terms. He didn't care too much, but if this kept up he might start getting wrinkles.

As the prince headed towards his room, he heard two people talking around the corner. Paris paused and listened in.

"I can't believe this is still going on. It's been five years."

"Yeah, this whole war's crazy. They should've just killed Paris to begin with."

"Or at least made him useful. The idiot would be more valuable in our beds than on the battlefield."

"And his girl too! That'd be one way to keep morale up."

They laughed. "Thank the gods for Hector. A great fighter, and a good man too."

"He prays to the gods every day. To Apollo in particular, I've heard."

"And he takes such good care of his family."

"Where would we be without him?"

Their voices faded out as they walked away, leaving Paris trembling. He shook his head. _'It's not my fault. It's not my fault that the gods picked me and offered me all this. I took the offer; anyone would've done the same...' _But the words sounded unconvincing, and he needed someone to cheer him up. Helen would do it.

Paris stepped into his room and found the queen of Sparta there, looking out the window. She didn't seem to notice him coming in, so he spoke up. "Some people were talking about me behind my back."

She turned and smiled at him prettily. "You poor thing. Come here; I'll make you feel better."

Paris shook his head, indignant. "Don't you want to hear what they said? Because they were talking about you too, you know."

Helen's perfect lower lip jutted out. "That's very mean."

"Yes, it is. They should feel lucky that we're even here! But I'll show them." Paris seethed. "I'm not to blame for all of this. How dare they—"

"Oh, don't make such an angry face. It makes you look scary. Now come here; I missed you today." She held out her arms.

Paris stared at her, a little miffed. Was that all she had to say? He looked into Helen's eyes and saw nothing but love there, but her brown irises seemed a little glazed over these days. Something about her seemed different. And not in a good way.

"Do you still miss your children, cherie?"

"What children?"

"Or your husband?"

"I love you more than him."

"Of course you do."

And as he gave in to her embrace, Paris couldn't help but wonder if screwing the same person over and over again was worth all of this.

* * *

**The Greek Camp**

In the last year before everything fell apart, Menelaus was tired.

The men had mutinied a little while ago, and he didn't blame them. Nine years of this, and for what? His faithless wife. Just thinking about her made Menelaus angry; she wasn't worth any of this. In fact, the image that kept him going these days wasn't of her, but of that Trojan fool's pretty face broken and bloodied. Now _that _was something worth making into a reality.

But Achilles, ever the diplomat, had somehow reignited the troops' faith in such a lost cause. How could they lose if they still had the greatest hero on their side? Why would they turn back now when they'd already gone this far? Later, Menelaus asked Achilles if he really believed in all that. In return, he'd gotten a smile and a very simple answer: "The first thing I ever said to you was that I'd get your wife back. I meant it."

After that, all talks of mutiny and revolution were quelled. No problem was beyond the hero's abilities! So when that priest came into their camp, the first thing Menelaus thought was _'How will Achilles get us out of this one?'_

The unfamiliar man was intimidating despite his short stature, and his green eyes were very determined. He strode confidently into their camp with an entourage of men carrying chests full of gold. He requested an audience with Agamemnon.

Menelaus watched his brother approach this intruder with a suspicious frown. "What's goin' on?"

"King Agamemnon, my name is Chryses. I am a priest of Apollo." His Greek was accented but easily understandable. "I come in peace to request the return of my daughter, who was captured by your troops during a recent raid. She's small, blonde...has ribbons in her hair." The priest pinched his lips and gestured stiffly at the chests his men carried behind him. "In return, I will give you all the treasure you see here."

The men started whispering amongst themselves, excited. This priest's treasury must have been impressive indeed, if the offering he'd brought was any indication. Menelaus whistled softly and eyed Agamemnon. What would he say?

"Hell no." Well that was one way to go. Menelaus sighed as Agamemnon continued. "She's my war prize; I won her. You can't bribe me for her."

Chryses' nostrils flared. "If you don't take this offer, the consequences will be grave. An insult to me is an insult to the gods."

"Do your worst, mate!" Agamemnon turned his back and strode away. The priest Chryses seemed ready to kill someone, but eventually he and all of his treasure departed as well, leaving the disappointed Greeks in his wake.

Menelaus shook his head and sighed. Of course, their beloved general 's reputation was threatened enough without him being pushed around by a vertically challenged priest. Menelaus looked around the clearing for Achilles and found him standing with his dark-haired concubine and that boy he was always with. The hero was shaking his head, probably complaining about Agamemnon's foolishness.

Menelaus narrowed his green eyes. _'Don't be hypocritical. Will pride be your undoing too?'_

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Ah, the foreshadowing. Sorry to all Australia's fans; he's kind of an ass in this story. :/ Anyway, Briseis was Achilles' war prize, who he was very fond of. In the original, she didn't have a resemblance to Deidameia and Achilles wasn't doing her a favor. ^_^ The bit with Paris was imagined, but the mutiny did actually happen. The nine years is the most boring part of the whole story, to be honest, so hopefully next chapter will get more interesting.

Cherie means darling in French (or something along those lines...)


	7. The Tenth Year

**Chapter 7: The Tenth Year**

Calchas/China: the Greek priest tasked with communicating with the gods

* * *

**The Greek Camp**

Patroclus wasn't in their tent, so Achilles looked for him in Briseis'. Sure enough, he was there helping with her Greek again.

"And this word means 'hero.' See?"

"Yes, I know this word."

"Gosh Pat, is that supposed to be a drawing of me? That sucks."

Briseis giggled as Patroclus quickly spun around. "Achilles? What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you, of course. Can I talk to you outside for a sec?"

"Oh, sure. I'll see you later, Briseis." Patroclus scrambled up and ducked through the tent flap. Achilles opened his mouth to say goodbye to the girl, but he ended up just nodding at her. She smiled and nodded back. A brief, awkward moment followed before he went back outside.

"You think she likes me, Pat?"

"Who, Briseis? Yeah, I think so." Patroclus smiled. "Why?"

Achilles sighed. "Well it's been a few years, but she still doesn't talk to me much. Does she talk to you?"

"Yes, of course. I've been teaching her Greek since she came here, remember?"

"How could I forget? You were freaking out when she finally told you her name."

"Because it was a big deal."

"If you say so." Achilles wouldn't mention it because Patroclus seemed fond of her, but Briseis was a bit of a thorn in his side. She was friendly enough, but he could just feel her disapproval at almost everything he did. Sure he'd killed her family, but he'd saved her from being a sex slave too, right? She could be a bit more grateful. "Anyway, I didn't want to talk about her. I was actually thinking about—" He was cut off by loud hacking and choking, coming from some doubled over men likely breathing their last. "Yeah, that."

Patroclus shuddered. "I thought so. You're feeling all right, right?"

"Yeah. Are you?"

"Yes. And Briseis seems healthy as well."

"At least there's _some _good news." Achilles wrinkled his nose as they passed some more diseased soldiers. "But we can't last like this. I think it has to be that priest who did it. There's no other explanation, is there?"

"No." Patroclus sighed. "He was a priest of Apollo's. The god of healing, but also of sickness."

"Exactly." Apollo. Sometimes Achilles could swear he saw a glowing, brown-haired boy shooting arrows down at them. "We should just give that girl back."

"Good luck getting Agamemnon to agree with that."

"Hm..." Achilles eyed the dais. Tons of speeches had been made there in the last decade; why not one more? "Maybe he just needs a kick in the ass."

"Achilles, what are you—"

Too late. The hero had already leaped onto the platform and was addressing the troops, his hands cupped around his mouth. "Everyone listen up! Drop what you're doing and pay attention!" Everyone listened, of course, and soon thousands of eyes were upon him, sunken from disease and hunger and despair. Achilles stood a little straighter. He had to lead them. "Okay, I think it's time we deal with this plague spreading through the camp. It has to be unnatural, and we've got a priest right here. Calchas?"

Their priest flinched as everyone suddenly turned to look at him instead. He stroked his dark ponytail nervously. "Aiyaa, so sudden. Do you really want my help?"

Achilles grinned and nodded. "Absolutely. What've you got?"

Calchas murmured something under his breath. "I cannot speak. Not unless you guarantee that I won't be in any dangeru."

Danger? He noticed Agamemnon standing in the crowd, his gaze promising death. Achilles understood. "Calchas, I promise that nothing will happen to you for what you're about to say."

He grinned fleetingly. "Hao de. In that case, this plague has happened because the god Apollo is angry. His priest has been disrespected, and he demands the return of the girl Chryseis."

A wave of whispering spread across the camp as Agamemnon's face went red. He spluttered. "Are you all serious? I'm your general! What, you're all gonna turn on me?" He looked around desperately and was only met with condemning stares.

Achilles laughed. "Come on, man. It's just one girl. What's the big deal?"

"Of course you'd say that. You wouldn't get it, would you?" Agamemnon seethed. "Fine. Want her? You can take her! But I get something in return."

"Uh, okay. What do you want?"

"I want _your_ girl. A fair exchange."

"Briseis?"Achilles heard a gasp. It had to be Patroclus.

Agamemnon sneered. "Is that her name? I'll try to remember that."

Achilles glanced down at Patroclus, whose face was completely white. The hero clenched his fist. "What does she have to do with this? Why do you even want her?"

"Isn't it obvious? So _you _can't have her." Agamemnon shook his head. "Then you'll understand what I'm losing."

Achilles' mouth hung open. For a moment he just felt shocked, then suddenly enraged. "You're doing this just to _insult _me? That's it? How stupid are you?" He took a step forward, and some of the spectators shrank back. "You're screwed without me! I'm the whole damn army, and you're actually gonna piss me off on purpose?"

"What's there to be pissed about, hero? I thought you didn't even like girls."

Achilles recoiled as some of the troops laughed despite themselves. "Fine. Fine! Do what you want. But you're crazy if you think I'm still fighting for you after this. You can all die for all I care!" He hopped off the dais and strode to his tent. He heard Agamemnon calling after him.

"We don't need you anyway! Ya priss."

Patroclus caught up with Achilles, panting. "This is horrible! We have to warn Briseis. Achilles, do you think—hey..."

Achilles felt a hand on his shoulder and turned. "What?"

Patroclus stared at him, concerned. "You were just kidding about not fighting, right? They need you."

Achilles clenched his teeth. His eyes flashed. "I don't care."

* * *

**King Priam's Palace in Troy**

"Paris. What are you doing up?"

"Hector. I could ask you the same thing."

Priam's least favorite son turned to face his brother, who answered his question curtly. "I couldn't sleep and thought I would patrol the palace. You never know if they're planning something."

Paris tossed his head back and laughed. "They can plan all they like; the war is already won. Without Achilles, the whole army is nothing."

"Be that as it may, this could still drag on unnecessarily." Hector pursed his lips. "That's why...I've been thinking of a way we could end it more quickly."

"And what have you come up with, you brilliant strategist you?"

Hector's eyes narrowed. "I think _you _should fight the deciding battle. Challenge the Greeks to a duel, and whoever wins wins."

"What?" Paris choked on his spit. "You want _me _to do that? That's a suicide mission!"

"Hm. At least you can acknowledge your weaknesses." Paris bristled, but Hector didn't let him start. "You _are _the one who started this whole conflict, so it's only fitting that you should end it as well. It'll save us many lives."

"At the risk of my own." Paris shook his head. "You're the one who got me to fight in this war at all. All it did was waste ten years of my life."

"We _all _wasted ten years of our lives. For you, and for her." Hector glanced around. "Why aren't you with Helen, anyway?"

"...Because I'm tired."

"Of her, or in general?"

"I don't have to answer that."

Paris started to turn away, but Hector grabbed his arm. "Wait. I mean it, Paris. You should do this. If you won't do it to save others, then do it for yourself."

"What? How will this help me in any way?"

"Simple. It'll save you once you're dead." Paris scoffed, but Hector had rehearsed this answer and knew what he had to say. "Listen to me. Unless you achieve godhood, which is highly unlikely, you can't live forever. And when the day of your death comes, what will happen to you in the underworld? You started a war out of lust, then wouldn't even fight in it until I made you. Have you ever done any good that could possibly balance that out?"

Hector could see that he hit a nerve. Paris shook. "I... Of course I have! I..."

"You haven't." Hector released Paris's arm, but he didn't move. "So do this. Redeem your honor, and face your foes head-on. Save those of us who are left, who fought for your mistake. Then maybe you can be saved."

Paris was silent for a long time. Finally, "You know who will rise to my challenge. Menelaus."

"It's likely."

"I don't want to face him. Helen was his wife, and I... They had children. I didn't know." Paris shook his head. "He would love to kill me."

"So don't let him."

"I guess that's the easiest answer, isn't it?" Paris laughed. He took a deep breath. "Okay. Tomorrow. Fine."

Hector eyed his brother, a trained liar. " Swear it."

"What, on the River Styx? You can't just trust me?"

Hector was about to say no, he couldn't, but Paris was already leaving, blowing a kiss over his shoulder. The Trojan hero sighed and decided to just see what would happen. Maybe he should pray some more.

(He prayed a lot lately, but one more time couldn't hurt.)

* * *

**The Battlefield**

Menelaus was surprised, at that point, that any of them even bothered dragging themselves to the battlefield anymore.

The mighty Greek army, the combined force of all their kingdoms, was being slaughtered like cattle because of one of their own. Achilles' name, once spoken in hushed tones of awe, had become a taboo. Menelaus was a little embarrassed that he'd misjudged him so badly.

_'So much for getting my wife back. So much for the hero.' _The king of Sparta sighed. _'And I thought he was a good kid. Silly me.' _

As he waited for the inevitable sound of the horn and the rush of men bent on killing each other, Menelaus noticed a surprising irregularity. Paris was heading the Trojan army today and started to call out to them. "So how are you without your hero? You know you're all going to die. Why not give up now?"

A roar of discontent rang out in response. Menelaus narrowed his eyes. What was that idiot up to?

Paris smiled charmingly. "To end this quicker, why not let it all come down to one fight? I—I bet I could take any one of you."

He sounded confident, but Menelaus didn't miss the stutter in his voice. Still, this wasn't an opportunity to be missed. Menelaus stepped forward. "Well since it's _my _wife you took and _my_ treasury you robbed, obviously I have to take you up on that. Isn't that right, you piece of shit?"

Paris held his gaze for one, two seconds. Three. Then he turned desperately and collapsed at Hector's feet, blubbering. He wasn't speaking Greek anymore, so Menelaus couldn't understand him. But from Paris's wailing and Hector's yelling, he could guess that the pretty boy was chickening out and his brother was reprimanding him.

_'How utterly pathetic.' _Menelaus rolled his eyes as Hector rose his volume and Paris scrambled away. After a little more sniveling, the latter rose and dusted himself off, facing Menelaus at last.

"Okay. Okay, I'm ready."

Menelaus sneered as they circled each other. "Good. I can't wait to turn you into a bloody pulp."

"Such violent words!" Paris laughed nervously. "Are you sure you don't want to talk it out first?"

"Talk it out?" Menelaus strained to hear; the cheering of the crowds almost drowned out their voices. "I have nothing to say to you."

"But _I_ have much to say to _you_!" Paris dropped his voice even further. Surely no one else could hear them now. "You see, we don't really have to fight at all. What if I just give Helen back? I'm a little tired of her anyway. Would you like that?"

Menelaus laughed harshly. "You think this is still about her? Don't be stupid. For all the trouble she's caused, I might just kill her myself. This is about my honor. You made a fool of me."

Paris winced. "But think of everyone! We could end the war much sooner this way."

"Oh please! If you really wanted to end the war, you would've just surrendered instead of challenging me and then giving up. Coward."

"But _Priam_ would have to call the army off, and he'd never listen to me! If you would get your men to leave, it'd be much better."

"Maybe so. But we didn't fight for ten years for nothing." Menelaus tightened his grip on his spear, tired of talking. "You'll all die before we go home."

"It doesn't have to be that way! Think about it." Paris's gaze was darting. He was scared. "If we lose, Helen dies and your children have no mother. If you lose, you die and they have no father. Think of them."

Menelaus stopped circling. "How do you know about them? I made sure that they didn't meet you."

Paris mirrored his action. "She told me. She said you have a daughter named Hermione and a son named Nicostratus. I love kids, you know, and I'm tired of the war myself. Really." His eyes shone with sincerity.

Menelaus gawked at him. "You're lying. You've never done a good thing in your life. You're just scared of me now."

"No, I'm sorry for y—"

"Shut up!" Menelaus lunged and Paris, shrieking, threw his spear. The Greek king deflected it with his shield and countered with his own spear, but it only caught the prince's tunic. Menelaus pulled out his sword, crazy for blood, but suddenly there was a ripple in the air, and the blade fell broken. Menelaus stared at it. Surely the work of the gods.

He looked back up and saw that Paris had started trying to scramble away, but he wasn't fast enough. Menelaus grabbed the crest of his enemy's helmet and pulled, ready to drag him all the way back to Greece. Paris started choking.

Suddenly the scent of roses filled the air, and another ripple distorted his vision. For a moment Menelaus was sure he saw a beautiful apparition, even more beautiful than his wife. She leaned down and carefully undid the strap on Paris's helmet, so it came loose and his blonde locks spilled out around his face. The prince's blue eyes sought Menelaus's, full of fear and remorse.

And suddenly both were gone. Just vanished.

Menelaus stared at the empty space where Paris had been. "Paris." He looked up at the Trojans, all as bewildered as he was. "Where is he? Where is that coward?"

"It doesn't matter!" Agamemnon called out from behind. "My brother's won! The war's over!"

A slow, dull cheer started up in both armies. Could it be true? Could they finally be going home?

A sharp whistle and Menelaus's scream of pain broke the peace. An arrow had grazed his leg.

"Who did this? Who dares attack us again?"

The war didn't end then. It wasn't the gods' will.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **I didn't edit this chapter as thoroughly...I hope it doesn't show. For accuracy, I just have to say that Paris challenged the Greeks all on his own, in the _Iliad._ (He was just bragging though. The chickening out did actually happen.) As a general rule, most of the stuff about Paris is kinda made up. Maybe it's just me, but he seems kind of one-dimensional in the real story. :/ Also, an oath on the River Styx was unbreakable, so that's why Paris brought it up.

A note about the "aru" speaking tick. I'm Chinese and just wanna say that we don't actually say that. XP But I use the other speaking ticks for the other characters, so of course I had to keep this one too. Most people just seem to tack it onto the ends of random sentences, but I've heard what this is supposed to sound like and that's not really how it is (to my knowledge). The "aru" is kinda meshed in with words that already end with a vowel and an "r," hence "dangeru" or "dollaru" or something like that.

Translations:

Hao de (Chinese): Okay

And finally, I just want to extend my deepest condolences to all those affected by that awful shooting in Connecticut today. This is an unthinkable tragedy for the community, the country, and the world. I only hope that this suffering won't be for nothing and that it will push us to take action for a safer future.


	8. Divine Interventions

**Chapter 8: Divine Interventions  
**  
Astyanax/Holy Roman Empire: Hector and Andromache's son

Andromache: Hector's wife

(In the end, I couldn't bring myself to cast anyone as Andromache.)

* * *

**The Greek Camp**

"Hey, man. How can I help you?"

"Spare me the pleasantries. You know very well how you can help me."

Patroclus winced at his tone. Today it was Menelaus. Yesterday it had been a delegation from Agamemnon. All of them, everyone in camp, had grown to hate their hero awfully fast. It was so obvious from the way that they glared at him, whispered his name like a taboo, avoided him wherever he went. It hurt seeing their allies acting this way, but the worst part (the part that Patroclus would never tell Achilles) was that he couldn't even blame them.

The king of Sparta sat by their tent, holding his leg gingerly. The bloodied bandage there was a jarring reminder of just how close they had come to actually going home and leaving this all behind them.

_'If only Paris had died.' _Patroclus shook his head. No time for wishful thinking. It actually made him a little guilty.

"So, Achilles." Menelaus scrutinized their former hero. "I heard my brother sent you a peace offering yesterday."

"That's right."

"And you didn't take it."

"Two for two."

"Why not?"

Achilles frowned. "Because he can't just send some of his grunts to kiss up to me and make it all better. He has to apologize in person. Then I'll forgive him."

"He offered you your girl back _and _additional treasure. A good man would only have to look at all his comrades to be moved." Menelaus shook his head in disbelief. "Can't you see that we're dying?"

"It's _war_. Of course people are dying. But hey, I didn't start this mess and I have no stake in it. I was just helping out, but that prick ruined it."

"No stake in it? What about your glory? If you won't fight, you can't make a name for yourself. Isn't that the whole reason why you even joined the army to begin with?"

Achilles opened his mouth and closed it again. He stared at Menelaus. "What do you mean?"

"I mean you promised me that you would get Helen back. The way you said that and put down the mutiny last year...I was actually convinced that you were a good person." His green eyes flashed. "I'm a little tired of being lied to by people I trusted."

"...Hey man, I'm sorry about your wife and how Paris screwed you over. But what do you want me to do about it? I won't fight for a leader who disrespected me."

"Then fight for the others! They've done nothing, and they're paying with their lives. Don't be such an idiot—"

"Hey, watch it! Just 'cause that Trojan pansy made an idiot of you doesn't mean we're all idiots."

"_Excuse me?_"

Patroclus stood and left quickly. Neither of them seemed to notice, and it reminded him of his earlier invisible years.

_'Good times, right?' _He sighed and thought for a moment. Achilles was out of his mind, and he really didn't know what to do. Who could he turn to now?

"Pst. Patroclus."

It couldn't be. "Briseis?" He turned and saw her there, looking (thank the gods) very healthy. Patroclus suddenly realized just how much he missed her. "What are you doing out here? Won't Agamemnon be looking for you?"

She giggled. "No. He doesn't really care what I do, so long as I'm back before curfew. He's barely spoken to me at all."

"And he hasn't..."

"Raped me? No, he hasn't done that either." She smiled wanly. "Probably because I'm still technically Achilles' property. He wouldn't dare."

Patroclus felt something uncomfortable stir in his stomach. "Don't say it like that. He never thought of you as his property. He was just trying to help you, really."

"I know, I know that. But what about when this is over? If I don't die first, will I just be his pretend sex slave forever?"

_'No, because Achilles won't make it out of the war alive.' _Patroclus shook his head and decided not to tell her that. "He could marry you. When we go back to Greece, you could be his wife. That would be a great life, right?"

"I don't think so." She smiled at him softly. "I know he doesn't love me, after all. But you should know that perfectly well yourself."

Patroclus laughed sheepishly. "Maybe. Lately, I don't know. I'm worried about him."

"Why, because he's being a big baby?" She shook her head. "I heard about that. Without Achilles, it sounds like even the gods are taking a more active role."

"How do you know that?"

"I was speaking to Calchas the other day. You know that battle between Menelaus and Paris?"

"The completely inconclusive and pointless one? Yes."

"The one who saved Paris was Aphrodite, apparently. And the one who shot the arrow at the end was under Athena's influence." She sighed. "Zeus has been helping the Trojans recently, but Calchas thinks that Hera might notice soon and put a stop to it. If that's the case, we could get a lucky break."

"That's great news. We could really use it."

"Mm-hmm. Maybe Hector will even die."

"No! Not Hector!" Patroclus cringed and quickly backtracked. "I mean, I don't think Hector has to die. He may be an enemy, but he seems honorable. Ideally, we could just get Helen back and leave without shedding any more blood."

Briseis looked at him strangely for his outburst but didn't question him for it. She smiled again. "Now you're just being idealistic. But I agree with you; that would be the best way. One thing's for sure, though. They need Achilles. This won't end without him."

"Yeah. I think you're right."

"Will you talk to him then?"

"What?"

"Tell him to fight again. You're the only one who can change his mind."

Patroclus stared at her and knew that it was true. But did he really want Achilles to start fighting again? It hurt seeing everyone be so hostile toward him, but it hurt worse thinking that he could die any day. But all the same...

"Okay. I'll talk to him." As he said so, Patroclus sent a silent prayer up to the gods. _'Please let this end soon. But spare Hector, and Achilles with him.'_

* * *

**Mount Olympus, home of the gods**

"Did you hear that, fratello? Someone asked us to spare the heroes."

"Ugh, I don't know anymore. Too many prayers going up at once; I can't keep track of them all."

"But you could try!"

"Why bother? Most of them can't even make a proper sacrifice these days."

Apollo gasped and turned to face his brother. "No, that's not always true! Hector asked his mother to make a great sacrifice to Athena just the other day. She burned her nicest robe. It was so pretty! Like starlight."

Artemis scoffed. "And what did Athena say?"

"Well..." He deflated. "I don't know. I didn't ask."

"Why not?"

"Because she's not on our side! And she scares me sometimes."

"Tch. Baby. Being scared of someone like that."

"But fratello, didn't you start crying and running away from her just—"

"Shut up! That was totally different!" Artemis huffed. "You want to help Hector, don't you? Well if Athena came around, that'd be huge for the Trojans. So you should check."

Apollo gasped. "Oh, you're right! Maybe I should ask her after all."

"Go ahead."

"Okay, I will." He beamed. "Ciao, fratello!"

Apollo dashed off as his twin called out after him, "And tell me what she says! I'm bored over here."

That day, the goddess of wisdom was poring over some war plans which she immediately hid upon seeing her half brother. She arched an eyebrow at him. "Apollo? What are you doing here?"

"Ciao, sorella. I, uh...just wanted to ask you something."

"Sure, go ahead. But come closer; I'm not gonna bite."

He smiled and obliged her. "You're not mad at me, are you? About this whole war."

"A little." She grinned and patted his head. "But I can look past that, for the moment. Let's not talk about it."

"Okay! I'm so glad you're not mad because I wanted to ask—actually, I guess this _is_ about the war, but uh..." He paused awkwardly. "I just wanted to know if you heard the prayer sent by the Trojan queen."

"I did."

"Oh, okay. And, uh..."

"I denied it."

"Oh."

There was a pause. Apollo shuffled his feet and tried to hide his disappointment as Athena continued, "Did you expect anything different? I know you've got some kind of crush on that Trojan boy, but I can't overlook an insult like that. That brat Paris pisses me off almost as much as Ares; I just wanna smack him in the head with a blunt object." She twitched and instantly relaxed. "You understand."

Apollo sniffed. "But Hector's such a good man. And he—"

"Apollo. Stop it." Athena stood a little straighter and took on an expression that silenced her half brother at once. "I could try to convince you that Achilles is a good man or show you what a genius Odysseus is, but I won't. Because it won't change your mind. So if I were you, I would be spending my time keeping an eye on Hector right about now. Something's coming."

"What?" Apollo quickly looked back down at Troy. Hector, in full armor, was in the castle saying goodbye to his weeping wife and frightened child. The hero held out his arms to the infant, Astyanax, but the boy was frightened by his helmet and shrank away from him. Hector laughed.

"_What's_ coming? What's going to happen to him?" Apollo looked back up, but Athena was gone. He stared mutely at the place where she had been for several minutes before realizing how useless that was and staggering back to his twin, who was still lying in the same place as before.

Artemis looked up. "You're back. What did she say?"

"Uh, she denied the prayer."

"Oh. That's too bad." Artemis eyed his brother and frowned. "What's got you so shaken up? You didn't actually expect her to accept it, did you?"

"No, but she said something's coming and I should look out for Hector. Something's going to happen to him, fratello! And I can't even tell what." His eyes watered.

"Huh." Artemis glanced down at the battlefield and inhaled sharply. "Well that might be it. You better check this out."

"What?" Down below, the Trojan army had beaten the Greeks back almost to their ships (thanks to Achilles). But now something was wrong. As Apollo gazed down, the Trojan soldiers were being pushed back, thrown from their horses, and Hector—

Hector.

Artemis flinched and covered his ears, hissing and cursing. God of music or no, Apollo had as frightful a voice as everyone else when he screamed like that.

* * *

**The Greek Camp**

"Please? I'll never ask you for anything again."

"No, Pat, don't pull crap like that. We're not doing so bad; Hector even fell. And he didn't die, so I don't have to die. It's the perfect resolution. Let's just go home."

Patroclus shook his head. "Calchas said this reprieve is just temporary. It's not over, and they need you. You have to be their hero."

"A hero without honor?" Achilles recoiled at the thought. "They brought this upon themselves when they took my property."

"Your _property_? This is Briseis we're talking about! A human being! You don't care about her, do you?" Patroclus shook his head in despair. "And you don't care about any of the other solders, or your promise to Menelaus. What's happened to you?"

"Nothing! I haven't changed. I just... I misspoke, that's all. I didn't actually mean 'property.' You know what I meant."

"No I don't. I don't know."

They stared each other down until Achilles looked away. He mumbled, "I'd still fight. I'd fight for people who I care about and who care about me. These guys don't. If I died they'd just be worried that they're next."

"That's not true."

"Yes it is. Besides, being a hero is all I know how to do. A hero's name is everything; if I fight for someone who insulted me, I'll be a joke. So I can't."

"...But I can."

Achilles looked up in confusion and saw that Patroclus was staring at his armor, lying unused in the corner. He got a bad feeling. "Pat. What are you—"

"We're the same height. And we're almost the same build. If I put on your armor and pretend to be you, it would give the troops such a morale boost just to think that you're there. And you wouldn't have to compromise anything, since it's not really you. It's perfect."

"No it's not." Achilles shook his head adamantly. "It's too dangerous, Pat. You're not invincible like me."

"I know, but I won't really fight. I'll just ride around in the chariot. It'll be totally safe." Patroclus met his gaze, and Achilles felt his resolve break. Slowly, he nodded.

"All right. Let's do that tomorrow." Patroclus gasped in relief and hugged him, and Achilles tried to shake the feeling of dread in his heart. He closed his eyes. "Hey, Pat."

"Yeah?"

"I miss when we were kids."

He laughed. "Yeah. A long time ago. Now even your child is almost grown."

"Child? Oh yeah, Deidameia. Yeah, I guess it must be almost a young adult by now."

"Do you think it's a boy or a girl?"

"Ugh, I don't know. I don't want to think about it." Achilles sat back and rubbed his eyes. "I meant _our _childhood, Pat. On Chiron's mountain and in my dad's castle. I was so excited to be here, but now..."

"Hey, don't talk about that. It'll work out." Patroclus forced a smile and nudged his best friend. "Hey, remember when I said that thing about Artemis and the moon went out?"

"How could I forget? You looked like you were gonna piss yourself."

Patroclus smacked him upside the head. "_Anyway. _I forgot to mention that I actually met Artemis once."

"Really? When?"

"When we were about to set sail and—um. It's not important. Anyway, I found out why she got so mad at me. Or rather, why _he _got so mad at me."

"What?"

"Artemis is a man!"

"No way!" Achilles cackled, and Patroclus nodded fervently. "Are you serious?"

"I'm dead serious! He really is!"

"Why have we been getting it wrong all this time?"

"I don't know. It's bizarre."

Both still laughing, they collapsed to lay side by side on that last peaceful night. Achilles looked over and tried to memorize his friend's violet eyes, his light hair, and that curl that stuck out so stubbornly. For some reason, Achilles' eyes got wet. "I love you, Pat."

"I love you, hero."

And in that moment, he could almost believe that they were just kids again.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **But we all know what happens after that. ^_^; Ugh, this was a really long, unplanned break. Holiday time is crazy. I feel bad that this is kind of a filler chapter, but the next one's really important and I didn't want to rush it. I'll try to get back to a once-a-week schedule. Anyway, this chapter's pretty factually accurate (I think), so no problems there. :) "Sorella" is Italian for sister.


	9. Real Hero

**Chapter 9: Real Hero**

Deiphobus/Austria: Priam's son, brother of Hector and Paris

* * *

**King Priam's Palace in Troy**

"...ake up...ector...wake up..."

Someone was calling him. The prince of Troy groaned and opened his eyes, then cringed and quickly closed them again. It was too bright.

_'Am I dead?'_

"Oh, you're awake! Thank goodness." Hector felt a hand on his arm. "You can open your eyes. I turned it down."

He obeyed, albeit reluctantly. It was—

Hector gasped and sat up, then thought better of it and kneeled. "My lord Apollo, master of archery, patron of Delphi, god of light—"

"—and music and poetry and medicine...ooh, and pasta!" The god beamed. "But you can just call me Apollo. Piacere, Hector."

_'What is pasta?' _The prince hesitated and straightened to face the god. "I'm honored, my lor—er, Apollo. Is there anything I can assist you with?"

"Actually, _I _was helping_ you_." He laughed. "Ve, how are you feeling? You took a nasty fall, so I healed you. We're in your room now."

Hector looked around and recognized the familiar surroundings. "We are. Thank you, my lord." He was a little lost for words. "You actually came in person just to help me?"

"Of course! Healing's one of my specialties! And I didn't think I'd have to help because Zeus favors your army, but his scary wife distracted him for a while." Apollo pouted. "It's okay now though. He's paying attention again, so you should be safe."

Hector nodded. "Thank you for your guidance, lord Apollo. But even if the whole world were against me, I would continue to fight for my city and my people."

Apollo's face warmed. "I know. I've rooted for you from the very start, and I wanted to meet you for the longest time! I'm so glad..." He sighed. "And since I'm here, is there anything else I can do to help you?"

Hector hesitated. "There is one thing, if it's not too much."

"Sure! What is it?"

"My son, Astyanax." Hector smiled involuntarily. "In this war, it's likely that I'll die. If that happens, I worry that he'll be left alone. Please, if something were to happen to me, could you watch over him?"

A beat of silence. Apollo's smile widened slowly, and suddenly he was laughing. A beautiful sound. "I should've known it was something like that. You're a good man, Hector. Even with my powers, the future of this war is unclear. But I'll look after your son, as best as I can. I promise."

"Thank you, my lord. You've given me more than I could ever deserve."

"Then what's one more blessing?" Apollo grabbed Hector's hand and held it between his, humming softly. A warm feeling spread up the hero's arm. After a few seconds, the god let go. "It's a blessing of strength. Go and end all this suffering."

He bowed his head. "I will, even if it takes my life."

"Hector? There you are."

The Trojan prince started and turned. His brother was there, his features stuck in a disapproving frown as per usual.

"Deiphobus."

"Where did you go? You suddenly disappeared." The younger prince agitatedly ran his hand through his dark hair, making the one haywire strand stick out even more. "I was worried. The Greeks suddenly became so strong for a moment, but things seemed to have calmed down again. Achilles hasn't come back, so we still hold that advantage, but this has to end soon."

"I agree. I, uh—" Hector glanced behind him. Apollo was gone. "I'll come join you."

"Good."

Hector stood and felt Apollo's blessing at once. He closed his hand into a fist and smiled. Finally, the end seemed to be in sight.

_'And Astyanax. He'll be safe now.' _The hero breathed deeply. _'And people will say he is much greater than his father ever was.'_

Hector walked out of the room. It was the first and last time he'd ever see the god of light.

* * *

**The Greek Camp**

"You've got the armor, shield, sword, spear... Oh, you've got my dagger too, right?"

"Of course. I haven't lost it in the minute since you last asked me." Patroclus smiled nervously. "It'll be fine. I'm fine."

Achilles swallowed and nodded rapidly. "Yeah, you're right. Of course." He took a few deep breaths. "Okay, ready to go?"

"Yes. I'll see you real soon."

"You better. Remember what I said, Pat. I'll have a happy ending. And you'll stay with me for all of it. You promised."

"I know." He hugged him. "I'll be right back."

Achilles didn't want to let him go, but all too soon Patroclus was gone and he was left alone. Outside there were loud shouts of elation.

"A-chil-les! A-chil-les! A-chil-les!"

The real prince of Phthia sat in his tent and shut his eyes, feeling something awful in his gut.

_'You're the real hero, Patroclus.'_

* * *

**The Battlefield**

It was hard, sometimes, for gods to pick sides.

Looking down at that Greek boy, it was impossible for Apollo not to admire his compassion in this reckless labor of love. He was just a sham in borrowed armor, but somehow Patroclus felled his enemies almost as easily as the soldier he was imitating would. But Apollo knew Achilles wasn't really there.

And he also knew, admirable though Patroclus was, that Hector was the one who deserved victory. Anyone who threatened him was an enemy, no matter how honorable.

Apollo smiled serenely as the Greek warrior approached the gates of Troy. He was trying to climb the walls, silly boy.

"Patroclus."

He looked up and locked eyes with the god. The boy gasped.

Apollo shook his head. "I really do like you, Patroclus. Ve, sorry about this." He reached out and took the boy's wrist, pried his fingers off the cold stone. For a moment, he just held him there.

Then he let go.

Patroclus didn't even make a sound as he plummeted to the ground, where Hector waited for him. There was a roar of approval as the Trojan hero drew his weapon on his Greek counterpart, and something faint stirred in the watching god's heart. Something wrong was happening here, but it was too late to change it.

Apollo shook his head and watched Hector. Another Greek was dead. What could be wrong? The god saw the flash of metal, the scarlet gush of blood. Then he closed his eyes and left, so he would see no more.

* * *

**The Greek Camp**

Achilles became bored quickly, especially since he was confined in his tent. Couldn't let anyone see him, could he?

Luckily he'd found another dagger to replace the one he'd given Patroclus, and now he was using it to whittle some wood.

"That looks like a bear, right?" The hero paused and looked around. "Who am I talking to? Damn, I'm going crazy."

"Achilles! Achilles, come at once!"

He hesitated. _'Do they mean me, or...?'_

"Achilles, I know you're in your tent! You need to come out right now!"

The hero's hand closed around the handle of his knife so his knuckles turned white. He threw the wooden bear on the ground and strode outside.

"What—"

Achilles' breathing stopped. His skin turned cold, his vision turned black, and the world started tilting beneath him. Suddenly he was on his knees, a scream tearing out of his throat that was barely human.

"Patroclus! Patroclus! Pat!"

It couldn't be him, but there was no denying it. Achilles' armor had been stripped from his body, which was covered in blood and filth, but it was clearly Patroclus who lay there, pale and cold and dead.

Achilles screamed wordlessly and brought his knife to his own neck, tried to slash it so he wouldn't know this agony anymore. But the weapon was harmless, just like every other knife and spear and sword that dared to touch a man blessed by the River Styx. He sobbed.

In a muffled voice, as if he were speaking from far away, Menelaus said, "I'm so sorry. He fought so bravely, and no one could have—"

"Shut up! Get away from him!" Achilles lurched forward and shoved the men standing over Patroclus's body. He held the corpse tightly. "Who did this? I'll kill him!"

"...It was Hector."

_'Hector.' _Achilles saw a flash of red and stood up at once. "I'll murder him! I'll eat that bastard alive!"

"No, Achilles. He's inside the city now." Odysseus held up his hands defensively as the Greek hero rounded on him. He quickly continued, "Tomorrow. Tomorrow, you can have your revenge. I promise."

"You promise? What good is something like that? So did he!" And suddenly Achilles grasped Patroclus's face and wet it with his tears. "But you lied to me! You lied to me, and now you're gone and how can I have my happy ending if I'm all alone? I need you here and—" His voice broke. "—and you promised you'd never leave me, but you lied to me, you liar!"

And he even waited a moment for Patroclus to answer, but Achilles' best friend was dead and his only love was gone, and nothing could ever change it.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **This scene's so important, I gave it its own chapter. RIP, Patroclus.

"Piacere" means "nice to meet you" in Italian.


	10. An Eye For an Eye

**Chapter 10: An Eye for an Eye**

* * *

**The Greek Camp**

_'Where am I? What's going on?' _

Everything sounded muffled, but he could tell that there was a commotion down below. With great difficulty, he sluggishly turned his head to look.

_'That's me. I look...I'm dead.' _Once he'd thought it, the statement didn't scare him. He remembered riding in the chariot and the unexpected burst of strength that allowed him to kill so many Trojans where he'd expected to just pretend. He remembered the glowing boy who dropped him, and the flash of steel in Hector's hand. _'I'm dead.' _It wasn't scary. It was just a fact, one he knew already.

They were carrying his body back to camp. At first Patroclus didn't know if he could follow, but he soon found himself floating after them. They went to his old tent, calling. Calling for—

_'Achilles.' _Patroclus inhaled sharply as his best friend came out. There was a split second of tense silence, the last moment of peace he'd ever know. Then suddenly a scream tore through it, and all at once Achilles had collapsed and was trying to slash his own throat, alternately sobbing and making death threats.

"Who did this? I'll kill him!"

"...It was Hector."

"I'll murder him! I'll eat that bastard alive!"

_'No, Achilles.' _Patroclus shook his head and choked up. And he was already dead, so why did he have to suffer through watching this? _'You can't kill Hector. Don't let my death be your death too.'_

Achilles scared the kings away and carried Patroclus's body inside. His spirit followed, ghostlike, into their old tent and watched as the hero clutched the corpse desperately. Patroclus tried to touch him and call to him, but of course it didn't work.

_'How long can I linger here? Will I be sent to the underworld soon?' _Patroclus thought and recalled that he could stay so long as his body wasn't burned yet. But surely they would cremate him soon.

_'Before then, just stop suffering. As long as you're okay, I can rest in peace forever.' _Patroclus sat beside his friend quietly. Seeing him this way felt worse than dying, but there was nowhere else to go. So he just sat and watched as his most important person in the world became more and more broken, holding a dead body slowly becoming colder and colder.

* * *

**Mount Olympus**

On Olympus, Apollo wept. Artemis found him, huddled up and alone.

"Holy crap! What's the matter with you?"

"Oh, fratello! I shouldn't have killed him, that boy Patroclus. I shouldn't have done it."

Artemis arched an eyebrow. "Why not? He was going to take Troy."

"But I finally got a prophecy about the future. I know what's going to happen to Hector and—" He broke down into sobs.

Artemis cringed. "Is he, uh...is he going to die?" Apollo's crying grew louder and the older twin figured that he was right. He bit his lip. "Are you sure?"

"Yes! Achilles is going to kill him for killing Patroclus. There's nothing I can do." He sniffed and rubbed his eyes.

Artemis coughed awkwardly, his older sibling senses telling him that he should say something comforting. "Well you did your best. He'll, uh, probably make it to Elysium and be happy."

"You think so?"

"Yeah. And that wouldn't be so bad, right? It's the best thing a mortal can hope for. It's the best thing we can give them, other than godhood." Apollo shuddered and nodded. Artemis shifted his weight. "Are you still going to help him then?"

Apollo shook his head. " No." His melodious voice was rasping and harsh. "What's the point?"

* * *

**King Priam's Palace in Troy**

Paris found it funny, at first, that some fool had had the guts to dress up as Achilles and go charging out to battle. And Hector thought he'd killed the Greek hero at last! When they took the armor off and found out it was just some boy, Paris was ecstatic.

_'That ought to knock Hector down a few pegs! Going to so much effort just to kill this nobody.'_

But it quickly became evident that no one thought any less of Hector for it. In fact, they seemed to esteem him even more, since this "nobody" had still killed a large number of their soldiers.

So Paris (who was still the most handsome person around, at least) took to airing his grievances with anyone who would listen (mostly the help). Helen was no comfort, since she seemed fond of Hector as well.

"What's so great about him, anyway? So he's a good fighter, and a virtuous person, and all that. That's so overrated. I know there are some things I can do much better." Paris smiled suggestively at the servant girl and put an arm around her waist. She tittered.

"Paris? Where's Helen?"

The girl squeaked and took off. Paris twitched.

_'You can't even let me have this?' _He turned to face Hector. "In our room, probably. What do you want? Don't you have to be somewhere so people can sing their praises to you?"

Hector frowned at him. "No."

"Then don't you have some more gods to kiss up to or something? Why are you talking to me? Trying to convince me to go on some more suicide missions?"

Hector's frown deepened. "You know that that plan would've worked if you hadn't disappeared like that."

"Sorry for not dying then."

"Apology accepted."

Paris rolled his eyes. "Sometimes I wonder what goes on in that pretty head of yours. Now stop frowning so much; you'll get wrinkles."

Hector gave him an incredulous look. "I didn't come to you for beauty advice. I came..."

"What?"

"I came to make amends." Hector looked to the side uncomfortably. "I think my time is almost up. If it's true, I don't want to leave things the way they are." He cleared his throat. "You're still my brother. I know you've had a hard lot in life, being cast out, and I hope that the gods see that when they're deciding where to place you in the underworld."

Paris winced at this mention of the unmentionable, that unknown abyss of death that yawned open just beyond his vision. He quickly tried to hide his discomfort. "Thank you, I suppose. But if you're the one who's going to die, you should worry about your own afterlife. Of course," he laughed, "it'll be nothing but Elysium for you, I suppose."

"You think so?"

"Of course. You love your people, your family, and the gods. Why not go straight to paradise? You're not scared of it, are you?"

"No." He shook his head. "I've done everything I can do in this life already, and I know I'm leaving my son in good hands." Hector smiled faintly then, as if thinking about some secret treasure that no one else could know about. "If I die now, it would be all right." Paris arched his eyebrows.

"I see. So I guess this is it."

"Yes. That's all I had to say." Hector started to walk away but stopped. "You shouldn't be unfaithful to Helen. She left her family for you, and we're fighting this war for you two. The least you could do is stay with her." He nodded and walked away briskly.

Paris was still for a long time, then turned to look in a mirror and contemplate his reflection. "You're a good man," he said.

* * *

**The Battlefield**

When Hector saw Achilles coming towards him, he knew that he was a dead man.

The hero of Greece had come back stronger than he ever was before, glowing like a god in brand new armor. The Trojan army immediately fled into the city walls, leaving their leader alone. Hector took one look into Achilles' eyes, turned, and ran.

_'Will I really die here?' _It had sounded so simple before, but suddenly Hector realized just how terrifying the idea really was. Surely nothing short of a divine intervention could help him now. _'Apollo...'_ Hector rounded a corner and was flooded with relief. "Deiphobus!"

His brother smiled primly and spoke calmly. "Stand and fight him."

Hector's breath rasped out of his throat. He nodded and turned to Achilles, calling to him in accented Greek. "Listen to me, please! If I kill you, I swear I will return your body to your friends. But you must swear to do the same for me."

"I won't make any deals with scum like you, you bastard." Achilles' blue eyes blazed. Looking into them, Hector could feel his pain and anguish. Of course, he'd loved that boy who died. So the rumors were true.

Achilles screamed and hurled his spear, but Hector managed to dodge it. The Trojan threw his own spear, but it glanced off of Achilles' shield. Hector panted.

"Brother!" He turned desperately for Deiphobus's help, but he was nowhere to be found. Instead there was a beautiful brunette woman with a flower in her hair, dressed in full armor. She smiled and almost looked sorry, then disappeared.

_'A trick by the gods.' _Hector closed his eyes. His last hope was gone. No one would help him now. _'If I die here, I die with honor.' _He grabbed his sword and turned to face Achilles.

The Greek hero was ready. He held his spear again, returned to him by the goddess, and drove it into Hector's throat before the Trojan prince could even draw breath.

The wounded hero fell to his knees, blood spilling down his front. "Please...please..." His vision blurred. "Give my body to my mother and my father."

Achilles glared. "After what you did to me? I'd sooner eat your raw flesh."

Hector choked and fell facedown into the dirt. He looked for some kind of comfort. He thought of his parents, his siblings, his wife, his son, and the god who had promised to protect him.

The hero of Troy shut his eyes and found peace with thoughts of a brown-haired youth with an errant curl sticking out the left side of his head.

_'You promised me...'_

* * *

**The Battlefield**

Achilles lost no time. As he heard the Greeks approaching, awed at the dead hero of Troy, the prince of Phthia tore the corpse's armor off and attached his chariot's leather thongs to Hector's feet. He grabbed his horse's reigns.

From somewhere far away came Menelaus's voice. "What are you doing, Achilles?"

He ignored him and lashed his horses. "Yah!" And they ran. Behind him, Hector's body scraped against the ground, soiled by dirt and blood and filth. Once, twice, three times around the walls of Troy. So many times that he lost count. Always he thought of Patroclus. _'I have to show Patroclus.'_

Achilles returned to his tent. His beloved corpse still lay there, wasting away. Achilles kneeled by it and stroked the light hair gently. "Look, Pat. I killed him. I killed him, and now I'll leave him for the dogs while you're cremated like a hero."

Patroclus didn't answer. Achilles burst into tears again.

* * *

**The Greek Camp**

King Priam arrived in the dead of night, and Achilles welcomed him into his tent. Patroclus watched glumly.

It had been days since he'd died. Still his body lay there decomposing, and his soul could find no rest. The only good news was that Briseis had been returned, untouched, by Agamemnon. Unfortunately, she had become bitter and cold towards Achilles for letting his best friend die. She hadn't come out of her own tent for a long while now.

_'What were you thinking, Achilles? That was Hector, your last chance at life.' _Thetis had come to try to reason with him. The sea nymph still looked the same as she had when Patroclus had last seen her on the shore of Scyros, warning them of this exact event. She begged with her son to save himself and spare Hector, but to no avail. In the end, she'd gotten him new armor.

_'New armor that he wore to kill a good man and deface his dead body.' _Patroclus shook his head.'_That's not you, Achilles. Don't lose yourself.'_

That night, the king of Troy sat down with his son's murderer over some drinks. Achilles struck up a conversation.

"You want your son's body back." It wasn't a question.

The old kind nodded. "I am old, and he was my eldest. I only wish to give him a proper burial, so his spirit may be at rest."

"He killed my dearest companion. The most important person on this Earth." Achilles' voice trembled.

"I am sorry for that. These are hard times." Priam stared down, lost in thought. "But think of your own father, if he were to lose his son. Please understand me."

The thought seemed to strike Achilles. He straightened and blinked rapidly, as if remembering something long gone. Patroclus shuddered and closed his eyes.

_'King Peleus. He would've been so heartbroken to see you like this, Achilles. He's already lost his wife. Now his son will never come home either.'_

The same thought seemed to occur to Achilles. "You came here in peace, even though I killed your son."

"I did."

"Tell me how long you want his funeral to be. I'll call a truce for that time."

Patroclus gasped in relief and felt tears come to his eyes. Yes, he was still a good man. The best of men.

_'Thank you, Achilles. I'm so glad.'_

"At least he did this much, I suppose."

Patroclus gasped and turned around. Behind him was an eerily familiar, glowing brunette. Patroclus shrieked and flinched away from him.

Apollo smiled wearily. "Don't worry. I can't kill you again."

"I know, I just...you surprised me."

"I know. I'm sorry." Apollo paused. "And not just for surprising you. For killing you too. I thought I was helping Hector, so..."

"It's okay." Patroclus wanted to feel angry. He wanted to feel some resentment for this god who'd spread the illness in their camp that led Achilles to his disgrace and killed Patroclus with his own hand. But he just couldn't, seeing him as he was. "I know you were just helping who you wanted to win. I did the same."

"Too bad I didn't even manage to do that." Apollo sniffed. "Killing you made Achilles kill Hector anyway, and I couldn't save him in the end. I didn't even try to."

They lapsed into silence. Patroclus finally said, "My lord Apollo, why are you here? Hector's body is here, but his spirit is not."

"I know. Sometimes souls get lost, or they find their way to the underworld on their own. Or maybe he's watching over his own family, instead of himself. Anyway, I can't look for him. I'm afraid I'll find him." Apollo shook his head. "I'm the one who told Priam to come get Hector's body back. I came to make sure Achilles would agree."

Patroclus flinched as he saw something dangerous flash in the god's eyes. "I know that what Achilles did to Hector's body is terrible. But please forgive him for it; he wasn't in his right mind."

Apollo shook his head rapidly. "No, I won't forgive him! But it makes no difference. You know he's going to die sooner or later anyway."

"...Yes, it's been prophesized."

Apollo nodded. "You won't see it anyway. I think you'll find rest soon."

"Oh?"

Down below, Hector's body had been cleaned and was taken back home. For the next nine days, Troy mourned him like the hero he was. In the Greek camp, Achilles finally cremated his beloved friend's body and collected the ashes himself.

"When I die—" He held up the urn meaningfully. "—put our ashes together."

Patroclus felt himself going. He reached out to caress Achilles' face. His ghostly fingers just brushed his cheek when everything went black, and the world became just a distant memory.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Only a little bit more to go! Guess who dies next. In this chapter, the stuff with Paris, Apollo, and Patroclus is not from the original story. The stuff with Achilles and Hector pretty much is though.


	11. The Fall

**Chapter 11: The Fall**

Thersites: a Greek soldier

Heracles: a famed hero from Greece (also known as Hercules)

Philoctetes: Heracles' friend, entrusted with his bow and arrows

* * *

**King Priam's Palace in Troy**

When they held Hector's funeral, all of Troy wept. Even Helen. It seemed like Paris was the only one who wasn't bawling his eyes out like a child.

"Trapped in a besieged city and going out to fight every day. I think Hector got lucky. He got out." Paris glanced over at Helen, who was still sniffling. He rolled his eyes. "Did you care for my brother?"

"Yes. He was the only one who wasn't cruel to me. He never blamed me for the war." She dabbed at her eyes.

_'You mean he didn't blame you out loud.' _Paris nodded and thought for a while. "You know, he told me goodbye before he left. He seemed ready for death. He'll probably go to paradise, of course, so that's not too hard to get ready for."

"Oh, of course! He was a good man."

Paris sighed and looked away from her. He'd heard that one too many times. "You know, back on the mountain they used to call me Alexander." Protector of Men. "Some connards were trying to steal the cattle, and I fought them off singlehandedly."

It wasn't meant as a boast, not really. He only wanted to see how she would react. But when Paris glanced back at her, Helen had the same old look on her face. Confusion that gave way to placid admiration. "That's great, my love. I'm proud of you."

Fake. Fake fake fake, so fake. Paris had had enough of it. Maybe she had loved him in the beginning, but now the goddess's magic was all he could see. He'd had enough of that, and of the war, and of the hatred everyone so obviously felt for him. And as Helen kissed him, the prince of Troy had a chillingly familiar thought, one that made his blood run cold.

_'This isn't the life that I want.'_

* * *

**The Greek Camp**

Eat, drink, fight, sleep, wake, repeat.

Somehow the war didn't end after Hector and Patroclus died. Achilles kept doing his job and killing everything in his path, but he would probably never be looked at the same way as he had been in the past.

"I felt him. He was talking to me and sitting right next to me. When I burned his body, he touched my face."

"Right. Whatever you say."

"I'm not crazy."

"I didn't say you were."

It never ended. The Greeks whispered about him back in camp, and the fighting became a chore on the battlefield. More reinforcements kept coming for the Trojans. That one woman, the Amazon, was the only one he remembered. She had large, purple eyes. Achilles didn't notice until he'd already killed her, but—when he lifted her helm and looked at her—the sight made him catch his breath.

Then that ugly son of a bitch Thersites ripped out her eyes, and Achilles killed him.

There was an uproar. Thersites was a Greek soldier, not an enemy. Eventually, it was decided that Odysseus should take Achilles to Lesbos to help him repent for his murder. They made sacrifices to Apollo, Artemis, and Leto. Afterwards, the two soldiers sat in silence.

"So. Some good this'll do, huh?"

Achilles didn't answer. Odysseus wasn't deterred and continued, "I think we all know Apollo and Artemis won't be so friendly towards you for a while, but we can never turn our backs on the gods. Even if they hate us."

"Yeah."

"Hm." Odysseus glanced over and slowly said, "Thersites was a Greek soldier. He fought with us. Why did you kill him?"

"He ruined them."

"What?"

"Her eyes."

"Ah." There was another pause. Then, "They're saying you loved her."

Achilles frowned. "What makes them say that?"

"Well, why else get so angry about it? They think you're...you know. Moving on."

_'Moving on?' _Achilles pinched his lips and didn't correct him. The only reason he'd noticed her was because of those eyes.

Odysseus smiled faintly and, being ever the clever one, added, "Yeah. I knew they were wrong." He stood. "Come on. We have to go back to battle. I hope you won't make a mistake like this again."

"Okay."

Eat, drink, fight, sleep, wake, hope not to wake.

When he came back, things were even worse. Of course, he'd just killed one of their own. The only consolation Achilles felt was the certainty of his own death looming. Now that Hector was dead, he'd die himself soon. He waited and waited for it.

And finally, it came.

* * *

**King Priam's Palace in Troy**

Apollo hadn't meant to get involved in this anymore. After the death of Hector, the best of men, he'd meant to just let it all go.

But Achilles' sacrifice had gotten his attention, and the god of light realized that watching the former hero drag himself up while obviously waiting for death was rather sad. The blessing of the Styx now cursed him; he could not be wounded. So he just kept on killing. The anger that Apollo had felt for his favorite's killer was gone now; in its place there was only pity.

So as Achilles entered the walls of Troy, Apollo appeared to a Trojan prince to put him out of his misery.

"Prince Paris."

Aphrodite's favorite gasped and turned from the window. His eyes were glazed with fear. "Who are you? Are you a god?"

"Yes. Of light and music and...oh, it doesn't matter." Apollo sighed, and his curl drooped. "We don't have time. Achilles is in the city, and you have to kill him."

"What? Me? Why?" Paris looked panicked. He tried to take a step away, but the wall blocked his path. "Why can't someone else do it?"

"Who else? You're already in the perfect place!" Apollo looked at him beseechingly. "You know he'll take Troy if no one does anything."

"You don't care about that." Paris shook his head. "Of course, now I remember you from that time you blinded me. You favored Hector, so now you're taking revenge on his killer. It's all the same. Don't you gods ever get tired of playing with us mortals?"

Apollo winced. "No. I guess not. But this isn't about that! He doesn't want to live anymore. It would be a mercy."

"Are you sure?" Paris's handsome face was full of uncertainty. "I'll admit it. I messed up a bunch of times. I messed up my own life and many others' lives. Even though it wasn't all my fault! Still...I'm starting to fear for my fate. I can't afford to mess up any more." He took a deep breath. "Is this really the right thing to do?"

"Yes." Apollo didn't even hesitate. "It's the right thing to do."

Paris turned. He nodded, and nocked an arrow. "I'm not sure if I can make this shot."

"It's okay. I'll guide it."

And he did. Paris released the arrow, and Apollo guided it down, down towards the greatest hero of Greece, deep into his heel where his mother held him when she'd tried to take his mortality away.

But he was still mortal; he could still die. Achilles staggered a few steps, dumbly grasping the feathered end of the shaft in his foot. He smiled, and fell.

* * *

**The Greek Camp**

"Face it. Without Achilles, we're doomed! We'll never make it out of here alive!"

"Have some faith. Calchas told us what we have to do, and we did it. We even kidnapped that prophet from Troy. So what did he say, Odysseus?"

The king of Ithaca looked up from his gray and white kitten to consider the other chieftains. Achilles' absence was palpable. "First of all, the prophet said we need the bow and arrows of Heracles."

"What? How are we supposed to get those?"

"Philoctetes had them, didn't he?"

"Wasn't he with us?"

"He got bitten by a snake on the way over. We left him on an island."

"Shit! So what do we do?"

Odysseus yawned and turned back to his cat. "Isn't it obvious? We go get him."

* * *

**King Priam's Palace in Troy**

"So Achilles is finally dead."

"Yeah, and I heard Paris was the one who killed him too."

"Surprising, ain't it? Still, what a coward's way to kill someone."

"I know! Shooting at him from a distance, when he couldn't fight back."

"I guess we shouldn't have expected anything less from him."

Paris closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He didn't know why he even bothered eavesdropping on people anymore. He'd been doing it for years, and they always said the same thing. Even now that he'd killed their greatest enemy.

_'That was the right thing to do. So why doesn't anyone recognize it? They call me a coward, but they can't understand my situation.' _Paris sank to the ground. _'I'm not as bad as everyone thinks. I just need more time to prove it.'_

He closed his eyes and thought of his life before this whole mess happened, when he was still a shepherd on a mountain with a beautiful nymph who loved him. Paris smiled and felt a tear roll down his cheek. _'Yes, if I get the chance I will make up for everything.'_

He felt sure of this, and yet there was a sinister voice nagging him in the back of his mind, filling him with doubt. '_You can never make up for anything. Nothing will ever erase what you've done, whether you die a hundred years from now, or tomorrow.'_

Tomorrow? "You're wrong. You don't know what you're talking about." Paris felt a chill and hugged himself.

* * *

**King Priam's Palace in Troy**

These days, Helen watched the battles from the windows of the palace. She'd point and identify the Greek heroes she recognized, and she'd always keep an eye on Paris, of course. People got hurt a lot, but she always felt pleasant anyway. It was like she was drifting in a cloud.

But one day there was an unfamiliar face among the Greeks, with a dangerous expression. Even though he only carried a bow and arrows, there was something formidable in them.

This man ran forward on the battlefield, eager to fight with an arrow already nocked. He took aim and shot at—

"Oh!" It was Paris. Helen covered her mouth, slightly concerned, but it looked like a shallow wound. He should be fine.

But he wasn't. Paris instantly collapsed, screaming in such anguish that Helen was rattled. A few of the others (perhaps reluctantly) carried him inside, and Helen ran to meet them. On the way there, she felt a sudden dizziness and had to stop and shut her eyes. When she found her love, the medics were surrounding him.

"What happened? Is he really hurt?"

"He was shot by a poisoned arrow. Apparently it belonged to Heracles himself. He should be dead in a little while."

Helen gazed upon Paris's sweat-drenched face and felt something in her head break. She gasped and fell to her knees. The cloud was gone.

"Helen...Helen, listen to me."

"Yes?" She gazed at him intently. His blue eyes looked cloudy.

"Please...take me to Mount Ida. I want to see Oenone."

Silence. She clutched his hand.

"Okay."

* * *

**Mount Ida, near Troy**

Paris went in and out of consciousness as the two girls talked. The poison hurt.

"How did you know about me?" That was Oenone. He recognized her voice, so confident and strong.

"He mentioned you sometimes. I think he loved you." That was Helen, in her too-familiar, fluting soprano. Paris winced at the pain in his leg and quickened his breathing.

"Maybe. But he loved you more. Did you love him?"

"I...I might have. At first. But as time went on, things got blurry. All I know now is that I don't want him to die."

"I see." Paris heard someone standing up. "Can you go? I need to talk to him." Helen's footsteps could be heard receding, and Paris opened his eyes with difficulty. Oenone's blurry face was the first thing he saw.

"You came here to ask me to heal you, is that right?"

Paris winced at her tone. It cut him like a knife. "Well... you _did _say you can heal any wound."

"That's true. But why should I help you?"

"Because I—" He hissed and clutched his leg. "—Because I love you. And I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I realized that my life was so much better with you. I regret all of it, and if I live, I'll stay with you. I'll be a good man, and it'll be like before. No, better than before." As he said it, he realized just how much he wanted that. In his mind's eye, the sun-filled days holding Oenone were all he could see.

"No." She held his hand and looked at him sadly. "I want to show you mercy, Paris, but you started a war out of lust and left me here without a second thought. I know you only came back for my help and haven't really changed. I can't forgive you just so you can go back to your old ways."

"No! That's not true! I—" Paris choked and writhed in pain. The end was near. He felt desperation clawing at his chest and prayed for Oenone to change her mind, for Aphrodite to come save him, even for Helen to do something (though she couldn't). His vision was going black.

_'Where will I go? Where will I go in the underworld?'_

_'You've never done a good thing in your life.'_

_'You're wrong. I was called Alexander. I put Achilles to rest. I only did what any other man would do, and I'm so sorry now. I need a second chance...'_

_'Why do you deserve one? All those dead men didn't get a second chance.'_

Paris screamed hoarsely as he thought he saw a green-eyed apparition smirking at him. The apparition spoke again:

_'The world will be a better place now that you're dead.'_

The prince of Troy closed his eyes tightly. He never opened them again.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **I feel like Paris always gets a bum rap for being cowardly and selfish and useless...and he kinda is at times, but there's a little more to his character. I thought the whole thing about how he got the name Alexander was quite interesting. Anyway, the Amazon queen who Achilles fell in love with was named Penthesilea. The guy who gouged out her eyes to mock Achilles was known for being very ugly.

"Connard" is a French insult. I don't know how severe an insult it is, but I wouldn't recommend Google translating it...

Next chapter is the last!


	12. The Sack of Troy

**Chapter 12: The Sack of Troy**

* * *

**The Greek Camp**

They burned Achilles' body and mixed his ashes with those of Patroclus, as he'd requested. Despite all the times he'd messed up, the hero was still mourned all around. Menelaus silently sent up a prayer that the poor boy would find peace in the next life.

Without Achilles, the Greeks couldn't count on superior strength; they needed strategy. The perfect answer to that was, of course, Odysseus.

(There had actually been a big mess about deciding who should be their next leader, but Menelaus thought it was obvious who would win that fight. There was no more time to waste.)

So, at the suggestion of their own priest, Odysseus kidnapped a prophet from Troy who seemed to know everything they needed to win the war. With his help, it seemed like they were finally on the brink of victory. Everyone was sure of it.

"And you're certain this horse trick is going to work?"

Well, almost everyone.

Menelaus frowned down at Odysseus's plans. The king of Ithaca sighed sleepily.

"Yes. We've done everything the prophet said. Now we just need one more trick to end the whole thing. You trust the prophet, don't you?"

"Of course I do! The arrows he told us to get killed that brat. I couldn't be happier with the prophet." Menelaus smiled at the memory. Paris had barely been touched, but the poison was potent. His screaming and the look on his face as he fell...Menelaus would cherish those memories forever. "I only wish I could've killed him myself."

"Are you still upset about that?" Odysseus smiled lazily. "Well, he's dead anyway. And there's still one more person who you could take your revenge on."

The king thought of his wife and gripped the handle of his sword. "Yes, I still have some unfinished business to take care of." He glanced at Odysseus again. "I'm just not sure they'll be stupid enough to buy this trick."

"You'd be surprised. They're just as desperate to end this as we are."

"I suppose so." Menelaus smiled darkly. "Well, there's no weapon quite like false hope."

* * *

**Troy**

When they first told him, he didn't believe them. Still, he ran up to the window with his old heart beating fast, feeling hope welling up despite what his mind told him.

It was too good to be true.

King Priam felt his eyes filling up with tears as he just stared and stared at the battlefield. Finally empty after ten hard years.

_'I could look at this image forever and never tire of it.'_ And for the first time in a long time, Hector's father smiled.

In the distance, what used to be the Greek camp was burned and deserted. Their ships were gone from the shore, surely sailing back to where they'd come from. The Greeks had left a large, wooden horse (a gift for Athena) and the Trojans jubilantly brought it inside. In the streets of Troy, there was dancing and feasting as everyone was finally free and could celebrate just being alive and safe at last.

_'Hector, if only you could see this. Your sacrifice was not for nothing.' _The old king looked fondly down at his grandson Astyanax. The child looked just like his father, and in time, maybe he would be just as great.

After all, they had all the time in the world now.

* * *

**Mount Olympus, home of the Gods**

All eyes were on Troy that night. The Olympians sat in their thrones and just looked down smugly, as if watching the final act of a show they'd spent a whole decade planning. Apollo supposed that that was all this was to them: a show. And all the people just players.

When the Greeks pretended to leave their camp deserted, Apollo was almost glad just because it made Troy so happy. Just for a moment.

When they'd taken the horse in, Apollo wanted to warn them. He was told not to.

Now it was night. Everyone slept. They all knew what would happen.

_'I would know it even if I weren't the god of prophecy. The end's coming.'_

Hera and Athena watched with bated breath as the Greek soldiers leaked out of the horse, one by one. They smiled giddily.

The first fire was lit. Screams started echoing around the city, and Ares groaned in defeat. Aphrodite pouted beside him.

The chaos escalated rapidly. Greek soldiers got into the palace. When King Priam was killed, Apollo stood up abruptly.

"This is too much. They're raping and killing innocent people, and look at how they disrespect our temples! We have to stop them!"

There was a ripple of discontent as the gods started noticing the sacrilege that the Greeks were committing. But Zeus refused any intervention.

"We can just kill them later, da? For now, the city must fall."

"But why? They've already lost, their leaders are already dead. Why all this?" Apollo felt tears welling and quickly wiped them away. "I promised I'd protect his son. At least let me save his son!"

"You might not have the time anyway."

"What?"

Down below, Astyanax had been captured. A Greek soldier held the struggling infant at the top of the walls of Troy, far above the unforgiving rocks below. Apollo screamed.

"They'll kill him!"

"And so what? He's got royal blood in him. They can't let him grow up and take revenge." That was Athena. She gave Apollo a pitying look and said, "With his death, this will really be over. There's no other way."

"No, I can't let him get hurt...I promised!"

Zeus glared. "Apollo! Sit down!"

The god of light winced and fell back into his chair. His father's stormy expression quickly cleared up, and he smiled. "The boy has to die. You won't do anything about it. Okay?"

More tears leaked out, but Apollo didn't bother wiping them anymore. Artemis hesitantly placed a hand on his shoulder.

In the mortal world below, the Greek soldier let Astyanax go. And the pale, tiny body plummeted down excruciatingly slowly, spinning and wailing in the night air. And after a long time, too long a time, he finally, mercifully, hit the rocks.

Apollo covered his face, and it was like clouds blocking out the sun.

* * *

**King Priam's Palace in Troy**

_'Where is she? Where is she where is she where is she where is she?'_

The carnage, the screaming, the flames, none of it mattered. Menelaus pushed his way to the palace, where he knew his faithless wife would be. He hadn't been able to kill Paris, but he would definitely kill _her._

Menelaus burst into every room until he saw her, shivering in a corner. There was another man there, a dark-haired Trojan with purple eyes and a beauty mark. He paled when he saw the Greek king.

"I—"

Menelaus didn't waste any time. He killed the Trojan, mutilating his body in the process, and approached Helen slowly.

She burst into tears.

"Oh Menelaus! Thank goodness you killed Deiphobus; they forced me to marry him after Paris died. Please help me! I'm so scared."

"As you should be." He raised his sword as he approached her. She gasped.

"No, please don't do it! The gods...they brainwashed me! I never really loved him; I love you!"

"Don't make a fool of me!" Menelaus trembled. "I saw how you acted towards him. Don't tell me you didn't go willingly! When I think of how many people died because of what you two did, it makes me sick."

"Yes, okay, you're right. At first, maybe I...but later on! I swear, I couldn't even think." She panicked. "And he didn't love me either! When he died, Paris asked to be taken to his old lover. She threw herself on his funeral pyre to be with him. We were nothing to each other. I really wanted to come back!"

_'Threw herself on his funeral pyre?' _So someone had loved him after all. Menelaus glowered. "If you were brainwashed, didn't it wear off when Paris died?"

"I...I..."

"If you wanted to come back, why didn't you? Why didn't you ever try to escape, or better yet, why didn't you just kill yourself so we wouldn't have to fight about it anymore?" Menelaus shook his head. "You even mentioned the oath the night before I left. You _knew _the other kings would have to come and defend your honor! Still you left and led them to their deaths."

"But...but..." She wailed. "No, it can't be all my fault!"

Menelaus stared at her, frozen and ready to strike. He thought of this great city engulfed in flames, of the infant tossed from the castle walls, of the countless people who died for this foolish woman's mistake.

He thought of the bright-eyed hero who sank into insanity fighting for her return, of the hero's best friend who lost it all for that same cause. He thought of the Trojan prince who had already paid with his life for a mistake. But the mistake wasn't all his; it was also hers.

_'She needs to die.' _He raised his blade a little higher and tensed his arm.

_'If we lose, Helen dies and your children have no mother._ _'_

_'What?' _That voice. It couldn't be...

_'...your children have no mother. Think of them.'_

_'Paris.' _That was what he'd said. Why did he even remember that? Menelaus shook, thinking of that day when they'd fought. He'd looked so...sorry. Menelaus stared at Helen. He dropped his sword.

In later years, they would say that he couldn't kill her because she was too beautiful. But that wasn't really true. After all this death, what was one more corpse? It wouldn't bring anyone back. It wouldn't make anything right.

Helen wailed and embraced him. Menelaus felt numb.

Outside, the world burned down.

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* * *

**Epilogue**

"...precious flour and water! When I look up at the empty sky, I see lightly floating macaroni. The happiness of slowly savoring the taste...come on, let's boil hot water!"

"You still working on that dumbass song? Have you even invented that food yet?"

Apollo turned and beamed when he saw his brother there. "Oh, Artemis, I didn't see you there! Do you mean have I shown it to the humans? No, not yet. But someday I will." He laughed cheerfully and plucked at his lyre.

Artemis sat beside him. "So you're finally feeling better, huh?"

"Mm-hmm." Apollo nodded. "Yes, I am. I guess it was just another battle. There are many of those."

"And you're not still upset about, uh..."

"Hector." Apollo's smile got a little smaller. "I think I'll always be upset about Hector. But life goes on."

Artemis nodded curtly. "That's what I like to hear. Moving on. Just like we always do."

"Ve, thanks, sorella."

"That's not funny!"

The god of music's laughter rang out over their little paradise, and it was a beautiful sound.

* * *

When one does not live forever, it understandably becomes necessary to value each passing moment of fleeting life. Because what happens in that ugly, mortal upperworld could still be the happiest moments of a person's existence.

For survivors like the king of Sparta, these thoughts were a constant reminder that his existence wasn't as bad as he thought. For the rest of his life, he looked at his beautiful wife and felt a deep hatred in his soul. But then he reminded himself that he was lucky. After all, he'd lived.

What he didn't know was that he really didn't have to feel sorry. After all, for the few who did enough things right, the afterlife could be a bliss away from the pain and the struggle and the blood. No one would've been surprised to know that the righteous hero, loved by a god, found the paradise that he always deserved. And even the wretched prince who burned with his true love got what he wanted in the end: a second chance, and the company of someone who truly loved him.

But no one could've been happier than the world's greatest dreamer, almost immortal, who had died with thoughts of nothing but his best friend, his lover, his most dear. When their ashes mixed in the cold earth, their spirits reached out to each other, shadowy and ethereal and barely there.

But still they touched, and it was like flooding the underworld in light, for now they could never be separated by death or men or gods so long as time went on.

And it always did.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **And that's a wrap! Thank you so much to everyone who read.

About this chapter...I really wanted to include some other stuff, but I thought it would throw off the story since I'm trying to focus only on certain characters. The "big mess" Menelaus mentioned refers to the fight between Ajax and Odysseus that ultimately leads to Ajax's death. I didn't even mention him, so I thought it'd be strange to bring him up now, but that part really is important. I also wanted to mention Achilles and Deidameia's son, who fought in the war at the very end, but that also seemed awkward. As it is, I hope the story seems conclusive! It's sad, but I wanted to make it kind of happy too. Who really knows what happens after death?

Lastly, I didn't want to do this before, but I'd really appreciate it if you guys reviewed. I know how off-putting it is when people don't update if they don't get X number of reviews, and I didn't want to come off that way. But if you made it through the whole story you must have some thoughts on it, and I'd really love to hear them (positive, negative, or neutral). But even if you don't review, just know that I really appreciate your attention and I hope I've given you something to think about. I know this fanfic isn't the easiest thing to read, but I wouldn't have written it if I didn't think there was something worthwhile in it. So thank you again, and I guess that's it! It's been a great ride.

Tsubaki-Eleven


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